


The Sky Above, The Field Below

by ryttu3k



Category: Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: M/M, PTSD, Posttraumatic stress disorder, Retelling, Scars, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryttu3k/pseuds/ryttu3k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows the story of the Hero of Time, of the Princess of Destiny, of the King of Evil. No one knows the story of the young man who loved the hero, protected the princess, defied the king - until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Survivor of the Sheikah

The air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood.

Burnt wood and fragments of stone crunched beneath Impa's boots as she carefully picked her way through what had once been her village. There had been no mercy, here - stone walls had been shattered by bomb blasts, the fire that had ripped through the town scorching the wood black. The few buildings that remained were on the brink of collapse.

Only the windmill had survived unscathed, although its sails had been burnt off. But that was a start - that indicated, at least, that they would be able to draw water.

She stepped over a body. There were a lot of them in the streets.

By the time she reached the well, the grass surrounding the square burnt and dry, Impa was near the brink of despair. Every single house was destroyed, every single one of its inhabitants dead - most of her people's bodies had been charred and burnt, but her practised eye could still see the wounds that marred their bodies.

This had been no tragic accident. This had been a massacre.

She was one of the last, then. She, and the men still on the battlefield, although she suspected that they would not remain long either. Impa, by virtue of her position as the personal guardian of the Queen of Hyrule and her infant daughter, had protection. They did not.

At her feet was a blade, straight and long, the hilt one she would recognise anywhere. She gazed down sightlessly at a moment at the bloodied blade, then gave a scream of frustration, kicking its hilt fiercely, sending it spinning into the side of one of the houses still standing. Ash and soot trickled down, disturbed by the impact.

And, at the edges of hearing and only audible by virtue of the utter lack of sound in the rest of the village, a thin wail split the air.

For just a moment, Impa froze.

And then she was racing to the source of the noise, one of the buildings still standing, her heart pounding so fiercely she was surprised it wasn't visible even through her armour. If anyone had survived... if only _one_ had survived...

The door collapse inwards when she touched it, already burnt to charcoal. But the house was brick - it had weathered the fire a little better. Still covered in soot and ash, still unstable, still burnt out with the bodies of its former inhabitant unrecognisable in the corner, but the stone blocking the hidden passage at the back had prevented the flames reaching its interior. She shoved it aside roughly, barely noticed when it cracked in half, and peered cautiously inside.

The sounds had stopped, now - or, at least, the wailing had. If she listened carefully, she could just hear the sound of soft breathing, a few strained whimpers mixed in to it. And, as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see the little black smudge huddling against the furthest wall.

Her breath caught. "Don't be afraid," she whispered, hopefully comfortingly, "My name is Impa. I won't hurt you."

The little black smudge unfurled a little, and she took a step towards him. When it didn't immediately recoil, she crossed the remaining distance, scooping up the child. "It's alright," she murmured, already acutely aware of the fact that she was not good with children, "There, there."

Steeling herself, she reached up to find the child's head, shielding his - or her - eyes from the grisly view he would otherwise see as she ducked back through the remains of their home. A boy, she noted, as soon as they were out in the sunlight, no older than two years old. With some luck, he would have no memory of this day.

The walk back through town was hurried, Impa ensuring to shield the boy's eyes from the view, to not stumble over the torn land. But finally, she reached the relative sanctuary of her home - the outer walls were scorched, but not damaged, and the wards had prevented the invaders from entering. To contrast with the burnt homes outside, the interior was cool and dry.

She sat him on a chair, then busied herself with finding some food for him - the smoke had first risen over five hours ago, he must have been hidden away all that time. No wonder he had been crying. An apple, carefully cut in to slices, and a cup of milk - she set them on the table in front of him, smiling a little as he took a look and carefully got up to kneel on the chair so as to reach.

Miruna and Calin's little boy, she realised, watching him eat. What had his name been? She couldn't recall.

One thing was clear though, Impa decided, watching the boy carefully tip the cup of milk to his mouth to take a sip, he could not stay in Hyrule. The Sheikah were now as good as extinct - given the precise nature of their enemy, and given that her only protection was her status, he would be in danger if he remained. Perhaps she could pass him off as her son - no, she had specifically been asked if she was childless before accepting her role as the Queen's guardian.

There was no way around it - he had to leave.

While he ate, Impa rummaged through her desk for some paper and ink, and considered what to write. Toaru - that was probably the best bet - far enough from Hyrule that he would be protected, but still enough people of Sheikah descent that he would not be raised ignorant of their culture and ways.

 _His true name is_... hmm. She couldn't quite recall.

The book of records for every birth, marriage, and death in the village dating back the past three hundred years was right there on her shelf - she flipped it open, got the boy's real name and date of birth (ah, she knew it had been something like that), and jotted it down.

_But he is not to know of this name - it is a relic of an era that has now been inexorably erased from the face of history. The Sheikah are extinct, and in memory of our fallen race, the boy is to be named ‘Sheik'._

Almost apologetically, she glanced across at the boy - Sheik, she reminded herself, that was his new name. Sheik had stopped eating now, gazing at the last remaining piece of apple with far too much sadness for a toddler.

"Where's Mama?" he asked childishly in Sheikah, and despite the Hylian guards claiming she didn't have a heart, at that moment, she felt it break.

So she knelt in front of him, dabbing away at the tears in his eyes and on his face, and said, as gently as she could, "Your Mama had to go away and she won't be coming back."

The little boy stared at her, and started to cry anew.

Alright, perhaps she needed to work on her skills for telling overly emotional toddlers that they were now orphans. Sighing to herself, she reached out to pick the boy up, holding him against her in what passed for a hug, patting the back of his head awkwardly. "How about a nap, hmm?" she murmured, and he shook his head fiercely - then yawned.

She chuckled, shifting him so she could walk up the stairs, setting him in her own bed. "Sleep well," she murmured, pulling the blankets up, then heading back down to finish the letter.

And then, she would have another to send, and then... who knew?

 

By the time he awoke, it was the middle of the night. Impa was busy gathering things together by lamplight - every item of toddler's clothing she could scavenge from the ruined village, blankets, a few books written in Sheikah, and a few other small items. These were bundled together, a child-sized travelling cloak set aside along with an item wrapped in a scrap of cloth.

Heart in her throat, she headed back up the stairs, murmuring soft things to him as they headed back down. And then she picked up the cloak, pack, and the item in the scrap of cloth, and carried him back through the village.

He was silent throughout, as if understanding the importance of their way through. "You're going to go to another place," she murmured to him instead, "Where you can grow up and be safe and happy. It's far away from here, but one day, you will come back."

She hoped. Perhaps things would change for the Sheikah... and perhaps he would remain in Toaru for the rest of his days.

Their rendezvous was at the bottom of the stairs leading down to Hyrule Field. She was a Gerudo woman that Impa was friendly with, an ally able and willing to help guide Sheik to his new home, sitting aside a sturdy desert horse. Once they reached the desert proper, she would swap the horse for a boar, and once they reached Toaru...

Well, then. Sheik's life would begin anew.

"Aw, he's adorable," the Gerudo whispered, smiling a little as Impa set Sheik down on his feet and knelt in front of him.

Impa ignored her for now, all of her attention on the little Sheikah boy standing in front of her. The travelling cloak was set about him, trailing too long but hopefully enough to keep the sand out. The cloth package was unwrapped, its contents - a red metal pendant bearing the Weeping Eye - spilling out in her hand.

"Everyone else is gone, little one," she told him quietly as she lifted the pendant and set the chain around his neck, tucking it beneath his cloak and clothes. "And so you must be the hope of our people."

He gazed wordlessly at her as she kissed him on the forehead then lifted him on to the horse in front of the Gerudo, the pack holding the letter and his meagre belongings tied behind the saddle. And she nodded at her friend, the horse immediately setting off through the field.

"Sheik," she whispered, watching them go, "Survivor of the Sheikah."


	2. Following My Own Tracks

The day that the mail caravan arrived was the day the winds were at their most aggressive, howling through the sculpted rock by the coast, sending the waves pounding against the cliffs. It was foolishness, foolishness to the extreme, to be anywhere near the coast - the waves were huge and aggressive, the wind enough to destabilise even an adult, little showers of rock and dust escaping down its sides.

There was a boy on the cliffs. The wind caught his hair, tangling it even further beyond his usual bird's nest, the cloak around his shoulders flapping in the wind like a flag.

No one else was foolish enough to see the boy slip over the edge, making his way to a slight hollow on the slanting side itself. He was as surefooted as a mountain goat, only once having to extend a hand to steady himself, brushing the cloak away almost impatiently as it got in his way. Finally reaching his destination, he settled down, glanced around, and drew out an envelope.

His fingers were tight around it - it had come all the way from Hyrule, the post man had said, and it would definitely not be good if it was swept in to the sea. Gazing at it for another moment, Sheik took a steadying breath, then unsealed it, drawing the letter out and tucking the envelope in to his belt.

It... was from Impa. Impa? Impa was practically a legend in Toaru, the only Sheikah survivor of the Hyrulean Civil War. It was perhaps one of the few places where she _could_ be venerated thus - many other lands were unfriendly to the Sheikah, but Toaru, where more of its citizens had Sheikah ancestry than not, saw her as the legend she was.

Sheik was sure he had more Sheikah ancestry than most. Many in Toaru had reddish-brown eyes, or pale pink eyes - only he had bright red ones. He also knew that one day he was set to leave his homeland and depart for Hyrule to serve the Royal Family - had that day come? Was this his summons?

He drew a breath, and began to read.

 _Dear Sheik,_ it started.

_Forgive my contact with you out of the blue. My name is Impa, and I am a Sheikah of Hyrule, a servant of the Royal Family and Her Highness Princess Zelda. I have taken the liberty of contacting you after several unsettling events have spread unease throughout those who are able to sense it._

_But first, I must first confirm a few things with you. One - you do not simply have Sheikah heritage, but instead, you are a full-blooded Sheikah. Two - I was not the only Sheikah survivor of the massacre at Kakariko Village and the Hyrulean Civil War - you survived that conflict as well. And three - you are not a native of Toaru, but instead of Hyrule. Your adoptive parents are old acquaintances of mine who were willing to take you in following the Civil War._

_I realise this may come as some shock to you_...

That much was for certain. Sheik was staring at the paper, quite unable to process it for the moment. Everything he had known for the entirety of his twelve and a bit years was, apparently, not true - that he had been born in the next town over, that his parents had died of an illness that had been going around when he was an infant, that he had been adopted by his present family because they were distant cousins to his supposed parents.

He was a Sheikah of Hyrule, and one of the two Sheikah survivors of the Hyrulean Civil War. Did that make him as much as a legend as Impa?

_I realise this may come as some shock to you, but it is imperative that you know the truth and your future duties. You must return to Hyrule at the earliest possible convenience - I have arranged for you to travel with the mail caravan along the Whispering Road as far as the Tolemacen Falls. You will then part ways and bear due North through the desert._

_The enclosed bundle includes a message stick - when you reach the Hyrulean border (it will be signposted, so long as you travel due North), slide the metal covering away and break the stick in half. This will alert me to your presence, and I will come to retrieve you. I have also enclosed a compass._

There was no bundle with the letter, but, Sheik reasoned, it must have been at home. A message stick? He had never heard of one of those - some Sheikah technology, he presumed, one he had never been taught of along with his heritage. For just a moment, he levelled a fierce glare at the rough sea - why hadn't they _told_ him?

But there was no way around it now, he supposed. He hadn't been told - there was no way around that. He simply had to adapt.

That was okay. He was adaptable.

The letter continued. There were many things, it read, that had led to Impa writing to him - the princess had been seeing dark tidings for the future, there had been worrying action taken against some of Hyrule's tribes. The Kokiri, the Gorons, the Zora - Sheik vaguely recalled a picture book illustration of a man made out of rock and a blue-skinned being cutting through the water, nodding. There were no Gorons or Zora or Kokiri in Toaru.

Finishing with a reiteration of having to return to Hyrule with all due haste, Sheik took a breath, folded it carefully, and tucked it away.

He had a lot of preparations to make.

 

All of the preparations she had made had been for nothing.

Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, clung to the horse's reins and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. She had tried everything she had thought of, every idea she had thought would work... Every plan she had had fled out of her head the instant she had found her father's body.

It had been evening, time for dinner. But her father had not been at the table as he usually was - curious, Zelda had climbed the stairs to his chambers, seeking out the office he usually resided in when he wasn't in the court.

And she had found him slumped in his chair, eyes glazed, a Gerudo blade embedded in his chest, and the man of her nightmares rifling through his belongings.

She had started screaming, catching his attention even as she turned to flee, running headlong in to Impa. "He's dead!" she screamed, and Impa had taken one look and scooped Zelda up in to her arms.

They had fled, then. There was no time to collect belongs, provisions - Zelda had taken to carrying the Ocarina of Time with her at all times, and now she clung to it and prayed and poured the knowledge her Hero would need even as Impa raced her out the door and straight to the stables.

The stableboy had had to leap aside or be trampled, then. Impa had deposited her on to the horse, leapt up herself, and her horse was tearing out of the stables at a rate of knots.

It had started raining hard, by now. Zelda ducked her head to avoid it, shielded partially by Impa's larger body, but she was still rapidly becoming chilled. She stared out, frightened, as they stormed through town, pulling up short at the gate - why was the gate shut? It wasn't nightfall, yet! But they weren't stopping - at the last possible second, it lowered, and they stormed out.

And practically trampled a boy in green. Zelda had gasped as he had leaped out of the way, tugging the ocarina out and hurling it towards him with every ounce of strength she possessed.

And then they were already too far away for anything else.

 

Long minutes passed. When she chanced a glance back, she could no longer see their pursuer.

 

And then her entire body jerked, so violently that if it wasn't for Impa's sudden grab she would have fallen from the horse. Her eyes were wide and glazed as she screamed, fighting to turn around to stare up at the castle where the sky was turning black, blacker than night, an unnatural darkness that should have never been there.

Relying entirely on Impa to keep her from falling, she grabbed her right hand, nearly sobbing as pain lanced through it. For an instant, her tear-clouded eyes imagined she could see bright, fierce, gold light shining through her fingers.

And then she knew nothing more.

 

The post man, Sheik knew, traditionally stayed overnight in Toaru before turning the other way and continuing on the route. It was that route that Sheik was examining now - south through Toaru and in to Meridor, past the Talus Peaks in to Labrynna, then through the southern pass of the mountains. There, they would join the Whispering Road - it would angle northeast, bordering the Great Rainshadow Desert on one side and the lands of Tolemac and Breeligh on the other. Although Sheik wouldn't see Breeligh, and nor would he follow the road in to Hyrule - his point of departure was the Tolemacen Falls, situated shortly before its border with Breeligh.

And then he would be forced to spend two weeks walking through the desert, burdened with all the food, water, and shelter he would have to carry with him, to reach an uncertain future.

That, at least, they could stock up on in Tolemac (Impa had also enclosed a sum of money for the post man for the inconvenience - otherwise, Sheik was not convinced he would take him). But that was still a two week ride away, and he still had preparations to make before leaving at dawn.

Every item of clothes he owned was forced in to a pack. Not all of his books would fit in his pack, and not every one belonged to him anyway, so he simply packed his favourites - the Hyrulean fairy tales, the handwritten notebook he had made of the stories he had been told (halfway filled with his neat print, still a way to go), the lavishly illustrated bestiary he had been given for his twelfth birthday (over a month ago).

He didn't have that many personal belongings, Sheik realised as he gazed at his mostly empty pack. Clothing and books, a handful of shells that he had spent hours collecting and would stay in the house, and the metal pendant around his neck - now that he knew where it had come from, what it represented, he hadn't taken it off.

And the package from Impa - a shiny metal compass, and the message stick (which he had carefully hidden between the pages of one of his books), and her letters - the second one had been included with the bundle, giving him further instructions on how to survive in the desert. How to find or make shelter, how to find water, how to avoid Leevers - how to avoid, too, the Gerudo (once he reached their territories), and, if he had no other choice but to make contact with them, to create a glamour of himself as a Gerudo girl. She had even included an outfit.

It was, quite frankly, horribly embarrassing.

His sleep that night was restless, filled with dreams - and occasionally nightmares - of the days to come. Impa had spoken of bad things approaching Hyrule, and yet he was to rush straight in without knowing what to expect.

Morning came far too swiftly for his liking.

Sheik awoke with a muttered groan, never much one for early mornings. The sun was barely creeping in through the gaps in the curtains, drawn shut too clumsily to block it out entirely. Draping an arm across his eyes, Sheik gave a sigh of resentment then sat up.

And then he remained there for a moment, just sitting, looking around the little room that had been _his_ for the past ten years. It was small, and he was almost ready to outgrow the low bed, and there was a hole in the curtains that had yet to be fixed, but it was his.

Sweeping away any sentimentality, he rose, washed, and dressed before gathering up his pack and stepping out of the room. There was already breakfast waiting for him - porridge and fruit, the usual, although he was grateful for it. Who knew when he would next be able to have hot porridge?

He ate in silence, his adoptive parents present but quiet as well. It was only when he was done did his adoptive father get up, moving to his side and setting a hand on his shoulder.

"Remember me to Hyrule," he said gently, then presented Sheik with his sheathed hunting knife. "To defend yourself."

Sheik nodded solemnly, taking it from him. "Thank you," he murmured, and strapped it to his right calf the way he had seen the man before him do a hundred times - a thousand times. "And thank you," he added, addressing his adoptive mother as well, "For taking care of me for ten years."

And then he rose from the table, collected his pack, and left without another word.

The post man in his mail caravan was waiting outside for him. Sheik eyed the set up with some apprehension - two horses, hitched up to a wagon featuring their sleeping quarters and storage, and a further caravan holding the mail he was delivering. "All ready to go, son?" the post man enquired, jumping down to help set Sheik's pack in the back of the wagon then helping him up to the bench in front.

"I expect so," Sheik said softly, taking one last look at the little town that had once been his home. "Let's go."

 

Zelda awoke in pain, stirring fitfully. The thick woollen blanket on top of her was not much like the silks and velvets of her own bed at home, but it was comfortable despite her overall discomfort. For a moment, she curled her fingers around it, then opened her eyes.

"Oh!" a young-sounding female voice immediately said, coming from somewhere to her side, "You're awake!" There was the scrape of wood on wood, and Zelda managed to focus just in time to see a young girl, red hair streaming behind her, shoving her chair back and running for the door. "Miss Impa, Daddy, she's awake!"

Zelda could only blink, trying to work out where she was (and why she was only in her petticoat and thin undershirt). There were rough-hewn beams over her head, and whitewashed walls - the furniture was perhaps more indelicate than the ones she was accustomed to at the castle, but the room had a pleasantness despite the simplicity.

The girl, too, was quite pretty despite her lack of gowns - a friendly face framed in long red hair, already dressed for bed in a cream-coloured nightdress, smiling warmly at her. And suddenly, Zelda recognised her - she had seen the girl sometimes accompanying the large man that delivered the milk to the castle.

"I have seen you before," she said quietly, "You help the large man deliver the milk."

The girl nodded cheerfully. "Yup," she chirped, "That's my Dad! His name is Talon, my name is Malon. You're at Lon Lon Ranch." She let out a sudden giggle. "For Ta _lon_ and Ma _lon_ , of course!"

Zelda had already worked that out, but she smiled nonetheless, glancing up as the door opened again. The large man who delivered the milk - Talon, she made herself remember - was there, and so, to Zelda's immense relief, was Impa.

"What's going on?" she asked Impa softly, rubbing her hand absentmindedly. "And what happened?"

Malon surged ahead with her answer before Impa could ever reply - "It was sorta spooky," she said, "A couple of hours ago, it went dark _really_ quickly - it was already getting dark, but this time it went dark _fast_. And there was some lightning and thunder over Castle Town, but it didn't look like it was raining or anything. Then a little bit after that, Miss Impa came in holding you, and you've been out cold all that time."

A rare smile twitched on Impa's lips. "That is the approximate gist of it, yes," she said, sounding amused. "Malon, Talon, we appreciate your assistance, but would I be able to talk to the Princess privately for a moment? And then we shall be on our way again, and you can have your bed back, Malon."

Zelda flushed a little - she hadn't intended to take the girl's bed.

"That's okay," Malon smiled, moving over to where her father stood. He set a hand on her shoulder, tucking her hair behind one ear.

"It's been no imposition, Your Highness," Talon said formally, made an odd little ducking gesture that was quite possibly a bow, and led his daughter out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Smiling a little despite herself, Zelda asked, "Are all peasants that nice?" She looked down at the woollen blanket again, smoothing it with her hands - the only girls her age she knew were of noble birth, and they tended to be annoying.

"Don't call them peasants," Impa said almost automatically, then she settled herself down next to Zelda, her expression shifting to solemn fast. "There was one thing that Malon could not tell you," she said quietly, "When you collapsed, I... felt something. I fear something terrible has happened - ripples moving through the Sacred Realm." She reached for one of Zelda's hands and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "What do you see?"

Obediently, Zelda's eyes slipped shut, and the images began to filter in. Bright, golden white, warm light - an old friend she had known for as long as she could remember.

And then a black stain, spreading from its heart, the light fragmenting and shattering and broken.

Zelda drew in a sharp gasp of breath, eyes watering at the sudden pain in her head and in her hand. "It's," she whimpered, "It's gone bad..."

And before Impa had the chance to respond, there was a sudden pounding at the door. "Your Highness, Miss Impa!" Malon's voice squeaked, "Daddy just saw men on horses, and they're coming this way!"

Impa moved fast, opening the door to let the girl in, gathering up Zelda's clothes (neatly folded and set on top of the dresser). "Malon," she said, bending down to be eye to eye with the girl, "Do you have a dress that the Princess may have? Her own clothing is... distinctive."

Malon nodded solemnly, dashing over to the same dresser and rummaging through it. "Here," she said, thrusting a bundle of cream-coloured cloth at Impa, "This is my nicest dress."

Gently, Impa set it back in her arms. "Just an ordinary dress. The thing any farm girl would wear." And Malon looked uncertain for a moment, then fished out another one. "Thank you," she smiled, and turned to tug the dress over Zelda's head.

Her expression solemn now, Malon gave a little half-smile and darted off to gather up an old canvas pack. "You can put her things in here, if you want," she offered, "We need to get a new one, anyway."

Zelda was silent throughout - she was in pain, and scared, and utterly bewildered. No sooner than everything was packed was Impa hurrying her down the stairs, her slippers incongruous beneath the slightly too large cream dress. "Your horse is ready," Talon told them as they reached the ground floor, looking grim. "But if you leave by the front gate, they'll spot you. How good is your horse at jumping?"

"Perfectly good."

"Then I suggest, ma'am, that you jump the back fence. That'll lead you away from the castle, more towards the lake."

"Thank you, Talon," Impa nodded, reaching out to shake his hand. "I thank you and your daughter for your hospitality."

Malon's lip wobbled uncertainly for a moment, then she darted forward to give Zelda a hug. Zelda stiffened in pure surprise. "I hope nothing bad happens to you!" she said sincerely, and Zelda managed a smile back.

"Er, thank you, Malon," she said softly, and the girl let go suddenly, turning red at the fact that she had just spontaneously hugged royalty. "I won't forget your friendliness."

Malon nearly sniffled and nodded, stepping back to stand beside her father. "Good luck, Your Highness!" he said even as he opened the door. "Mally, stay inside and go up to bed." Malon nodded, and practically sprinted up the stairs; outside, it was fast approaching bitterly cold.

That was odd for late spring.

Zelda glanced up only once as Talon swiftly led them to the horse, seeing Malon peering out the top floor window. Talon didn't notice - he was too busy helping Zelda up to sit in front of Impa again. "Go fast, go straight, and jump true," he told them urgently, "We'll try and hold them off - divert them or the like."

Impa nodded, considering. "If they question you," she started, "Don't deny that we were here, but simply say that you didn't know why we came here. And if they ask, tell them we left half an hour ago and made for the mountain pass between Kakariko Village and the River. That should lead them away from any settlements."

"Will do," Talon nodded, gave them a salute (and another awkward bow), "Good luck, Your Highness and Lady Impa!"

Impa gave him a formal nod back, then, with a, "Hyahh!", kicked the horse in to action. They took off like an arrow, making straight for the wall that surrounded the ranch; Zelda squeezed her eyes shut and _clung_ as the world disappeared from under them for a bit, and then... they were free.

"Where are we going?" she asked Impa softly when she managed to get her breath back."

Impa released a hand to stroke her hair, loose without her cap. "Somewhere safe," she murmured, then added, "There is someone I want you to meet."

 

It had taken Sheik a month to reach Hyrule, and what an incongruous welcome back to his home land it was.

The sign had been half buried in the sand, faded, sandblasted letters reading, ‘Southern extent of Hyrule' practically invisible. Sheik gulped and stepped past it, glancing around for the rocky outcrop Impa had mentioned in her letter.

Ah - there. He trudged his way over to it, settling down against it, thankful to be out of the wind.

From the bottom of his pack, he reached for the book he had hidden the message stick in. Sliding it out, he examined it briefly - two pieces of metal screwed together in a thin tube the length of his index finger. He twisted the two pieces apart, sliding then side to reveal the wood beneath, took a breath, and snapped it.

It was instantaneous - in less than a second, Sheik had Impa's voice calmly telling him, "Stay where you are, I will come and fetch you, change your clothing now." And then it went silent again, and Sheik was left staring at the two pieces now slowly dissolving in to dust and blowing away on the wind.

Oh - this part he wasn't looking forward to. Sheik steeled himself, then drew out the purple bits of cloth - a filmy pair of pants, a tube top, curled slippers, arm braces, and a veil to cover his face. He dressed quickly and self-consciously, pulling the travelling cloak around him, and waited.

The sun was only just rising, but already, it was getting hot. And much to his chagrin, someone was approaching - a Gerudo, from the flash of red he could see through the sand. For a moment, red eyes closed, veiled mouth soundlessly wording the glamour; when his eyes opened again, they were a clear topaz.

He couldn't change the look of shapes yet, only colour. This was why he was dressed in this ridiculous fashion, his longer, pointed ears and short hair hidden by the travelling cloak he wore. But now his skin was noticeably more bronze, his eyes yellow, and his hair scarlet - from a distance, he simply looked like a Gerudo girl who had yet to enter womanhood.

The Gerudo stopped a little way near him, frowning a little. "All alone, little one?" she said almost brusquely, "Come on - it's happening tonight, we need to be ready."

Something was happening tonight? But Sheik merely shook his head (a little, enough so that his hood didn't slip down). "I can't, I'm waiting for my Auntie," he said in his most feminine voice, recalling the words Impa had told him to say, "I still have to wait here a bit longer."

"Trial by sand, huh?" the woman grinned, nodding to him. "Well, good luck. See you back at the fortress."

"Okay," Sheik said softly, not letting his guard down until she was out of sight. Then he sighed, allowing a little of his own colouring to trickle back.

"You should not let your guard down until you are certain you are alone," said a voice from behind (or, more correctly, above), and Sheik practically jumped out of his skin.

There was a chuckle, and Impa leapt smoothly down from the outcrop above, turning to face him. "Although, I should congratulate you on the illusion, you did it quite well."

Sheik found himself quite unable to speak for the moment. This was Impa, the woman who had come to take him to his destiny, a living legend for as long as he could remember. "L-Lady Impa," he stuttered, "I did not..."

"Just call me Impa," she said with a slight smile, giving him a look over. "Come. If any more approach, retain the disguise, but we are near our destination now."

He nodded, flushing as the absurdity of his clothing came to mind again. But he silently picked up his pack, wincing as it chafed against his skin without his thick clothing in the way, following the woman silently.

They did not make for the valley. Instead, Impa let him over red rock outcrops, to a hidden passage passing beneath the valley itself. And then they emerged on the side of Hyrule Field, and already the breeze was cooler.

Now, Impa led him over the rocks, pausing at a barely distinguishable gap in the rocks, barely large enough to hold a skulltula. But Impa gave him a smile, and told him to properly _see_ it - and, as he did, a gap large enough for a person emerged.

Sheik glanced across at Impa. She gave him a nod. "Well, go on."

He gulped, and did so.

Inside, it was utterly dark. There was a profoundly odd sensation of unreality as they walked, like this place did not exist and now they did not either. Finally, they stopped in a cavern lit by a source he couldn't find, surrounded by a pit he couldn't see the bottom of, shattered pillars lying around like felled trees. And it was there that he was told to wait.

"I will return shortly," she told him, "There is fresh food in the other pack, if you are hungry."

"Alright," Sheik said with a soft nod, and settled down to wait.

 

He didn't have to wait long. It was nearing midnight that day when he heard Impa's approach, soft words to an unseen companion. Hastily, he sat up, brushing himself off (he had changed back to his own clothing, dusty as they were, the instant Impa had left) and setting aside the remains for his dinner, keeping an eye out.

And then they emerged in to the light, and Sheik blinked at the sight of a girl, bundled in a travelling cloak, half asleep in Impa's arms.

"Sheik," Impa said softly to him, and Sheik realised with a shock that was almost physical that he was looking at Her Highness Princess Zelda, heir to the Hyrulean throne, herself, "I would like you to meet Princess Zelda."


	3. Met My Match

"Sheik," Impa told him as she returned to the cave, "I would like you to meet Princess Zelda."

For just a moment, Sheik was rooted to the ground, faintly stunned that his entire duty, his entire reason for being, that everything he had ever been taught - _serve the royal family_ , _be their faithful servant_ , _serve her and love her_ \- was now here. Princess Zelda - he had been told since he was four years old that it would one day be his duty to serve her, and that day had come.

Impa, dressed in the most generic, unremarkable travelling clothes over her own uniform, was instructing the girl to take a seat on one of the smaller fallen pillars. She looked lost - a dusty travelling cloak over a dress of plain cream fabric, muddy slippers on her feet, a dusty smudge on her nose and her hair tangled by the breeze.

Sheik gulped, carefully got to his feet, and moved to kneel before her. "Your Highness," he whispered reverently, head lowered respectfully, "It is an honour to finally meet you and I will make it my solemn duty to serve you in whatever manner you --"

"Sheik," she said patiently, and the sound of it went through Sheik like an arrow. Immediately, he stopped his nervous babbling, swallowing hard and looking up at her. Her expression was patient, and a little amused, and friendly. "You don't need to say all that stuff, okay? So why don't you stop kneeling and don't call me Your Highness any more?"

Unable to make any more words, period, let alone ‘Your Highness', come out, he nodded, still faintly dumbstruck. "Y-yes, Princess Zelda," he managed to practically stutter, still not getting up off the floor.

The princess sighed. "Don't call me ‘Princess', either," she said, although the scolding was tempered with a faint smile. "If we're going to live side by side for seven years, then you can start by calling me Zelda." And she slipped off the pillar, and extended a hand to him.

Sheik looked up to meet her gaze, warmth and friendliness and wisdom in the blue depths. And slowly, hesitantly, he reached out to take her hand so that she could tug him to his feet.

"That's better," she smiled, suddenly looking like a little girl again before glancing back at her guardian. "Impa, I would quite like to sleep."

"Of course," Impa murmured, crossing over to one of the larger pillars and pulling a few thick bed rolls from it. "This is simply temporary," she told the two, "Tomorrow, we will set up a more permanent shelter."

Seven years, Zelda had said, and now Impa was speaking of a permanent shelter. How long was he expected to stay down here?

 

Sheik slept soundly, that night. He was physically worn out from two weeks trekking across a desert, finally able to sleep soundly without fear of being buried by an unexpected sandstorm or being gnawed on by a leever, and even his wariness about finally meeting the princess of Hyrule couldn't stop him from being out like a light almost before his head hit the sleeping roll.

He awoke some time later to the most profound disorientation he had ever experienced. How long had he been asleep? He felt reasonably rested, but there was nothing to tell the time, no way of knowing if it was in fact morning or still the middle of the night. Zelda was still asleep, but Impa was not, and so there was nothing to be gleaned from there.

As silently as he could - so not to awaken Zelda - Sheik got to his feet carefully to make his way over to Impa. As far as he could see, all of her attention was on preparing something to eat (porridge - his mouth almost watered, he hadn't been able to have a hot meal other than the occasional roast leever on a stick since he had left Toaru), but as he got within a few paces, she murmured, "Good morning, Sheik."

" _Is_ it morning?" he asked softly, taking a seat by the fire. This place was odd - the level of light never changed, its temperature remaining constant - not too cool, not too warm. Even this close to the fire was uncomfortable - he slid back a few inches. "I could not tell."

"It is," she confirmed, then smiled a little. "Perhaps." From somewhere unseen, she drew a little hinged case out - inside, there was a simple picture of an outdoors scene, a little picture of a sun on a thin needle low on the horizon. "This tells me that it's morning, although it may be malfunctioning."

He frowned for a moment. "But is there another way to tell, in here?" he asked quietly, "I don't even know what time you returned - it was long enough for me to get hungry twice, and start getting tired, so... late at night?"

"Around midnight, yes."

He frowned for a moment, glancing across at the sleeping princess. "Then we should let her sleep?" he asked.

Impa nodded, also gazing at the girl. She was still curled up under her blanket, pale strawberry blonde hair falling over her eyes. There was an expression of discomfort on her face, very faint distress that Sheik longed to erase. "She may be ill, for a while," she said quietly.

"...Why?" Sheik frowned.

Impa didn't reply straight away, going back to stirring the porridge. "I will explain later," she murmured, and Sheik nodded, dropping the subject.

He was suddenly acutely uncomfortable. Here he was in utterly unknown surrounds, in a place where time was almost wholly indistinguishable, with an ill princess and a legend of the people he had only learned were _his_ people scarcely a month past.

And the princess had said something about seven years? He would be... what was it... nineteen, by then. Positively ancient. Was he to spend his entire adolescence in this place? How much was he going to miss out on, simply by being here?

He hadn't been speaking, but perhaps he had been thinking too loud, for the princess was beginning to stir. Impa, too, glanced up at her, a fond smile on her face.

"Good morning, Zelda," she called out gently, and was rewarded by tousled blonde hair poking up from above the blanket.

"Morning," she mumbled in reply, yawning hugely. And then she blinked, and looked around, and her face fell. "It's really real, isn't it?"

Impa nodded once, and turned back to the porridge, ladling it out in to the bowls she had with her. For just a moment, Sheik wondered where it had all come from - the bed rolls, the nightgown Zelda was wearing now and the further neatly stacked piles of clothing he could see, the stores of food, the everyday items they were using now.

Three of everything. Three bowls, three large plates, three small plates, three sets of cutlery. Three bedrolls.

The bowl in his hands was marked with the crest of the Royal Family. Had Impa stored all of these things here earlier?

The three ate in silence for a little while, until finally Sheik could no longer stop himself. Almost blurting it out, he dropped his spoon back in what remained of his porridge and asked, "Why are we here? What is going on?"

Impa didn't reply immediately, taking another spoonful of porridge. But finally, not looking at him, she said, "Because Hyrule had been taken."

Sheik froze, horrified in to silence.

"We failed," Zelda said in a tiny voice, and to Sheik's chagrin, a tear was beginning to roll down her pale cheek. "I didn't know what I was doing... it's all my fault."

Sighing, Impa set down her bowl and moved to Zelda's side, scooping the princess up on to her lap. Zelda set her own bowl down and buried her face against Impa's neck, clinging with all the desperation of a terrified child.

For a moment, Sheik didn't know where to look.

"It isn't her fault," Impa told Sheik, her red eyes boring in to his. "But you must know what happened." She settled Zelda more properly in her arms, and began to tell the story.

"When I wrote to you, things had already been set in motion," she started. "There's a forest on one of Hyrule's borders, home to a race called the Kokiri - they appear human, but are actually eternal children, enormously long-lived despite their appearances. They are ruled by their protector and, I suppose, creator - the Great Deku Tree."

"A race of children created by a tree?" Sheik asked, more than a little skeptical.

Impa nodded as if this was common fact. "They are. They are accompanied by fairies that guide them throughout their lives - they are, well, the closest thing to a parent they have other than the Deku Tree," she mused. "But they are notoriously secret - only one or two messengers of the Royal Family and the Royal Family itself know of them. And, of course, myself."

"Of course," Sheik murmured.

"When I wrote to you," Impa continued, "A curse had killed the Great Deku Tree, and one of the children had actually left the forest. This was normally a thing unheard of, since it's believed that Kokiri die when they leave the forest, but..."

She stopped there, glancing down at the princess. And Zelda raised her head, and softly said, "But I had already seen it. A boy in green coming from the forest, holding a green and shining stone, and followed by a fairy."

And then she buried her face against Impa's chest again. Impa sighed, and resumed with the story. "The boy came to the castle - sneaking past the guards, I might add," she smiled. "And it was exactly as the princess foretold - he was dressed in green, accompanied by a fairy, and had with him the Sacred Stone of the Forest - the Kokiri Emerald, handed to him by the Great Deku Tree itself prior to its passing."

Sheik almost asked how a tree managed to hand anything to anyone, but wisely held his tongue. "What happened next?" he asked instead.

Impa smiled faintly, almost as if she knew what he had almost asked. "Zelda told him of another dream she had had," she continued, her voice becoming more solemn. "There was a man at the castle - his name is Ganondorf Dragmire, and he is the king of the Gerudo people and one of the King of Hyrule's most trusted advisor. He was the one that helped the King win favour of the throne following the civil war, but Zelda suspected that it was simply a plot to win a far greater prize."

Sheik nodded, subdued. The name gave him a chill down his spine just from hearing it spoken - _Ganondorf_. There was something ill about that name - something that promised pain and suffering and ruin.

"And then there were other worrying signs," Impa continued. "The mines that the Goron people used had been infested, and the Gorons were starving. And the patron god of the Zora people, the Great Lord Jabu Jabu, was acting very oddly. The princess confided all this in the boy, then sent him to retrieve the other two sacred stones from these people. That was when I wrote to you."

She smiled faintly. "I have ways of ensuring my letters reach their intended recipients in time. That was scarcely a month ago."

So... four weeks, then. The princess had met a boy from the forests, had sent him off on a task, and he had been travelling all that time. "What then?" he whispered.

"It took the boy almost four weeks to fulfil both these tasks," Impa continued. "Of course, they were enormous tasks - for a ten-year-old boy to venture - alone - in to a lava-filled, monster-occupied cavern and defeat the beast that inhabited it, and then to make his way through a giant fish to rescue the stubborn Zora Princess --"

"A giant _fish_?" Sheik gaped, "And was he ten years old? You said Kokiri were long-lived."

"Don't interrupt," Impa frowned, "And yes, but that is assuming he was actually a Kokiri."

Sheik dearly wanted to ask more, but, again, held his tongue. "Go on," he said weakly.

And Impa did. "Yesterday," she said quietly, "Shortly before dinner, Zelda found her father in his study. He was dead at Ganondorf's hands."

Sheik swallowed hard. He knew that the king's only surviving relative was his daughter - not a princess, then, but a queen. A queen at only ten years old - it was an impossible situation. "Your Majesty," he whispered to Zelda, more overwhelmed and over his head than anything he had felt before.

"Not yet," Zelda murmured, and there were tears in her eyes. "I am only a Princess in exile. There is a false king on the throne, now."

"Ganondorf," he murmured.

"Yes," confirmed Impa. "Ganondorf has set himself on the throne of Hyrule - but it's worse."

Laughing bitterly, Sheik looked away. "How could it be _worse_?" he muttered, then flushed slightly. "Sorry."

Impa smiled grimly, but didn't scold him. "Because the boy succeeded. He found all three Sacred Stones - Forest, Fire, and Water. He saved the Gorons and the Zora. The princess gave him the Ocarina of Time, and he went to the Temple of Time to play the Song of Time, open the Door of Time, and claim the Master Sword."

Sheik was half-expecting her to say ‘the Master Sword of Time'. The fact that she didn't almost made him mentally stumble.

"But," she continued, her voice softer, "Instead, something we did not expect happened. Ganondorf was there. And when Link claimed the Master Sword, it deemed him too young to wield it. It sealed him away in the Sacred Realm, and Ganondorf was able to gain access to that place."

She drew a breath, then said, "And when he did, he claimed the Triforce."

Oh.

Well.

That was not good.

Wordlessly, he gazed up at her as she continued, her eyes fixed on the fire. "Now, Ganondorf rules the land. Link waits in the Sacred Realm, locked in an enchanted sleep for seven years - then, and only then, will he become the Master of the Blade of Evil's Bane. And then, it will be your task to guide him in his task."

Sheik was silent. The enormity of this task was beginning to weigh on him - his shoulders slumped, a shuddering breath making its way out. He almost wanted to curl up and cry. He wasn't a guide! He was barely in control of his own life, let alone some kid's who was going to spend seven years sleeping!

"In seven years," Impa continued, and Sheik's head snapped up as automatically as if it had been an order, "Link will awaken as the Hero of Time. And he will become your destiny."

 

After that first morning, things began to become easier, more routine. The caverns slowly became more familiar - Sheik learnt of the paths to avoid lest he never find his way back (caught on a single pillar miles away from the walls of the enormous cavern, he had felt a little like a distressed kitten mewling for its mother until Impa came to rescue him), and of the rooms that looked like a pictographic negative with black platforms surrounded by blinding light, and every square inch of the cavern they had made home - about the bottomless pit that surrounded them, and the thin paths ahead and behind, and how he should never, ever try to press forward through the caverns or he'd never find his way back.

This was the Boundary, the gap between worlds. Places that shouldn't have existed, or existed too far away to be able to be connected to Hyrule naturally, were accessible in this way. Impa rattled them off - Termina through the Lost Woods, Koholint Island past the Lake, the land that this Boundary connected to that she would never speak of so that Sheik would never be tempted to follow its path.

The cavern they inhabited now was protected utterly. None could enter without Sheikah magic, and he and Impa were the only two Sheikah left. The gap between worlds did not exist - it was the perfect hiding place for Zelda to grow up in, out of reach from Ganondorf's grasp.

At first, they had started on the mundane, normal things. They had made shelters - a little room for each of them made of blankets and rugs and bedrolls and empty crates for furniture (how _had_ Impa managed to carry all these things with her?), set up using the enormous pillars as some of the walls and long poles to prop up the other ends. They all opened up to a central area that Impa had dubbed their living environments - an improvised kitchen with a stove and surfaces for preparation, a table and chairs created from slices of the pillars, soft rugs and pillows and blankets to create a rest area other than what Sheik was dubbing their bedrooms.

Off to one side was a waterfall - almost silent, a pure, clean stream of water right at the edge of the platform. After Zelda had sleepily stumbled over to wash her face after waking up one morning, Impa set about to create a barrier there - there, they could wash their clothes and their bodies, and Impa rigged up a curtain to surround it for that means.

And, well away from their living quarters, was the area that Impa had deemed to be both a classroom and a training ground. Their meagre collection of books was growing steadily - while he and Zelda were restricted to staying in the caves, Impa left frequently for supplies and often returned with extras - clothing for the both of them as they grew, books, a small stash of weaponry.

Aside from the hunting knife that Sheik's adoptive father had left for him, she was also accumulating others - a bow and a quiver full of arrows which she taught Zelda to use, an old but useable sword, a wickedly sharp Sheikah blade, its hilt wrapped in bandages, much like the one she wielded herself. Sheik did not question where she had found it - he simply accepted it (along with the throwing needles she was beginning to teach him to use).

And Impa set about teaching Sheik (and Zelda, when she asked) the mechanisms he would need to survive - the art of subterfuge, combat with the blade and the throwing needles, and some basic use of magic - how to create fire, how to throw up a defensive shield (Sheik was not very good at that one - he suspected that Nayru did not like him very much), how to further the illusions he could create. Even Zelda learnt to use them, to an extent - the glamours she created came from the Light, not from the Shadow, but the effect was much the same.

And then, one day, Impa arrived back in the cave and told them that it was Sheik's thirteenth birthday.

Sheik, to put it lightly, was faintly stunned. Yes, time passed strangely in this place, but almost an entire year? His birthday had been only two months past when they had arrived.

Zelda, to his astonishment, was not surprised. She simply nodded, gave him a hug and a murmured, "Happy birthday," then settled back down with the history book she was studying.

There were further surprises in store. Not only did he receive his first real birthday present (a little clay flute, dark purple-tinged blue in shade, covered in a shiny glaze), but now, he was to receive additional lessons. Thirteen, Impa told him, was traditionally the age where young Sheikah began their true training.

These were the lessons that Zelda never received, the lessons that she could _not_ know - the stories and legends and magic that he would need to become a Sheikah, to become a true representative of their race. And there was something almost sad and desperate in the way Impa taught them - that if he did not remember and learn, then no one would. Then the Sheikah truly would be extinct - he would have their blood, but nothing of the knowledge and know-how that made the Sheikah the true masters of the Shadow.

Time progressed in fits and starts in the Boundary. Barely a minute later (six weeks in the real world), Zelda turned eleven, an eternity later (and by that, only two weeks had passed) marking the first anniversary of their arrival in the caves.

And Zelda learnt to become a Queen, and Sheik learnt to become a Sheikah.

And that was why he was now standing inconspicuously in an alcove of a smoky pub, five years older and emerging from his cocoon for the first time since he had first entered. The clothes he wore were simple peasant fare, and a hooded cloak discouraged close looks, but his features were obscured by the glamour he projected - a thicker jaw, faint stubble, fairer skin. His hair looked noticeably shorter and brown, besides, his normally red eyes cooled to blue.

In short, he didn't even remotely resemble a scared Sheikah boy of seventeen, but a rough Hylian man of perhaps twenty. He looked utterly inconspicuous. Completely forgettable. The metal pendant against his chest bearing the Sheikah eye almost burnt.

Now, he was simply listening. There was a growing resistance against Ganondorf's rule, a group finding small ways to rebel against the overlord who held so much of Hyrule in his fist. There were enclaves of those hiding themselves from the exorbitant taxes of Kakariko by forming little communes in Southern Hyrule. There were those who, hiding themselves, made raids against the Gerudo in retaliation, stealing foods and medicines. There were stories of some who had even escaped to the Lost Woods, although none had ever heard back from them.

They were losing hope.

"This will never end," the speaker said roughly, "Things can't continue like this - we're losing too many good people against those Gerudo bitches."

There was a general murmur of concurrence.

"Either we have to fight outright, which we can't do because people are hungry and sick and we're massively outnumbered, or we have to lie down and accept it."

This time, the murmur that swept the room was less in agreement. But Sheik could still see a few nods amongst the crowd, and something in his chest ached - were things really that hopeless? He still had food and shelter and safety, and yes, it was for protection, but still...

He coughed a little, then raised the issue that Impa had sent him to speak about - normally, it was her, but this time, she had sent Sheik.

"What about the rumours?" he asked.

The speaker gave him a piercing glance back. "What rumours do you mean?" he asked carefully.

Sheik took a breath, and said, "The rumours that some Hero is going to appear after seven years pass. If we can keep fighting for another... two years, I think, then things will pay off."

There was a long, lingering silence.

"Won't they?" he added, trying to sound gruff and confident and utterly unlike himself.

This was what Impa had been doing the entire time - going out to raise hope, to let the population of Hyrule know that hope was on its way. There was no danger to Link, he was inaccessible in the Sacred Realm, and this way, the people would know that there was a time limit to this.

Their suffering would not be forever.

"I'll believe it when I see it," one of the men grunted.

"You will," Sheik said - a bare whisper, but it carried. "He'll come. I know it."

And when they next looked over, he was gone.


	4. Band On Every Corner

The needle embedded itself neatly in to the middle of the knot in the wood with a satisfying _fwip_.

Sheik smiled grimly in satisfaction and aimed three inches above it - it impacted around half an inch off to one side, and his grim smile switched to a frown. Still, he noted as he glanced down at his hands, red and sore and stiff, that was only to be expected in the cold.

It was the dying days of autumn, heading in to winter. But already it was frigid - ever since he had arrived in Hyrule, Impa told him, the winters had been particularly long and particularly severe. Dressed only in his usual tunic and pants, Sheik was definitely beginning to feel the cold.

Still. A Sheikah had to be prepared for all climates, which is why he was in the southern part of Hyrule Field in the first place. The cloak and cowl he usually wore outside was draped over a tree branch, the heavy boots, difficult to walk in at the best of times, beneath it. It was not snowing yet, so his thinner shoes were not becoming damp yet, but there was a chill in the air that indicated that it was near.

This would be the last winter he would ever have to withstand like this. In six months, almost to the day, the Hero of Time would awaken.

Lining up to throw the next needle, he was suddenly interrupted by a mental summons - a message stick, keyed to him. "Return at the next possible convenience," came Impa's voice, resonating through his head. Sheik nodded, approaching the tree to pull his needles out, pulling the boots and cloak back on.

The walk back to the Boundary wasn't long - it was, happily, free from interruptions, even the Gerudo staying within their fortress on bitterly cold days like the today's. So it was reasonably soon that he was slipping in to the significantly warmer chambers that made up the Boundary, shedding the cloak and settling it over his arm as he walked.

In their living quarters, Impa was waiting. She was simply standing in the middle of the area that doubled as a classroom and a training ground, an unreadable expression on her face, Zelda standing solemnly to her side.

"Sheik," Impa said softly as he neared, "Take a seat. You know what is to happen in precisely half a year, correct?"

Wordlessly, Sheik nodded, perched on one of the slices of pillar that dotted the area. How could he not know?

"Then it is time for you to leave."

And suddenly, he understood the expression on the princess's face. He had been leaving the Boundary for some time now - missions with the resistance (now with his own established disguise as a young Hylian male and a source of surprisingly reliable information), for the exchange of information - always slipping through the Shadow to appear out of nowhere, slipping back in to it and vanishing from sight when he was done.

He had spent so much time outside of the Boundary, and yet he had barely seen Hyrule at all.

But now... the way Impa was wording it indicated something more long-term.

"Where am I being sent to?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

Impa gazed at him for a moment, and then withdrew from the Shadow an instrument.

Sheik's breath caught. It was a lyre, small and compact and curled around at the edges. A few bandages were wrapped around its frame, careful to avoid the slender strings. Suddenly, his hands itched to touch it.

Perhaps Impa sensed that from him, because she smiled and held it out for him to brush his fingers across the golden surface. The instrument thrummed with power - there was magic in it, not simply in the notes he could play with it but built in to the metal of the thing itself, reverberating through its strings.

It was, quite simply, exquisite.

And all too soon, it disappeared back in to the Shadow. Sheik bit off the disappointed noise he made, glancing back up at Impa almost forlornly.

"I told you six and a half years ago that it would be your duty to guide the Hero of Time," Impa said quietly, "But I never told you how."

She took a seat herself, Zelda lingering awkwardly before setting herself down on the column next to Sheik. Setting her smaller hand on his, she locked their fingers, catching his eye to give him a reassuring smile.

Sheik smiled back, although his was distinctly more wobbly, mindful of the way his pulse had picked up just a little at the contact.

"What would you have me do?" he asked softly.

Impa took a breath. "You already know," she said, "That you will meet him when he awakens to give the Hero his instructions. But you will also have another duty - that is, you will travel to Hyrule's temples, meet the Hero there, and teach him the songs that will return him to that place. You will teach him to _understand_ the place he returns to, so that he would not be lost to the winds. In some cases, his success depends entirely on his being about to return there."

Sheik remained silent. Not just a protector to Zelda and a guide to the Hero - he was to be a song teacher, too?

"You understand, of course," Impa continued softly, "That you must learn these songs yourself."

He nodded. That was only obvious, really. "Do you have them recorded?" he asked.

Zelda actually muffled a giggle, hand squeezing Sheik's lightly. "Not quite," she smiled.

Impa gave her an indulgent smile, and nodded. "No. For you to teach these songs to Link, you must understand them yourself. You will travel to each of the six temples of Hyrule, you will gain understanding of the place, and you will learn the songs in that way."

And Sheik nodded. "And that is why I am being sent away?" he enquired softly.

"It is indeed," Impa confirmed, and her gaze softened. "And when you return, the lyre and the blade will be yours. But for now, you may have the rest of the day off. You as well, Zelda," she added.

Much to Sheik's surprise, then, she stood, crossing over and giving him a kiss (well, more like a peck) on the forehead. Sheik had known Impa for six and a half years, and not once had she showed that sort of affection to him. Zelda, yes. Himself, never.

"Without you," she murmured, "The Hero will not succeed. Without the Hero, Hyrule remains under Ganondorf's iron fist. You hold perhaps the most important position in this entire quest, save the Hero, Princess, and Ganondorf himself."

Suddenly, it all felt like a little bit too much. "I think," he said, almost shakily, "I'm going to go lie down for a bit."

And he practically fled to the sanctuary of his bed quarters, flopping on to his bedroll and blankets, gazing up at the light filtering in through the fabric that made it up. He didn't want this - he was no hero, he simply had to watch for harm and keep him from danger and teach him songs. The only reason it was him and not someone else was by virtue of his position as one of the last Sheikah - and even if it was not, then someone else would ably fill the role. Even Zelda could have, with sufficient training.

But no. Zelda was far too important - if harm came to her, then Hyrule would fall. In that way, he truly was ideal for the job - able to fight, able to guide... and disposable.

He would leave the next morning.

 

By now, he was half way to Lake Hylia.

It was a miserable day, and even beneath the hood of his white travelling cloak, Sheik was rapidly becoming soaked to the bone. Soon, the rain would turn to snow, and the world would grow quieter and brighter and far more uncomfortable - for now, it was simply cold and wet.

It had started raining almost as soon as he had set foot on the grass of Hyrule Field. Behind him, the red dust was being pounded in to mud; ahead of him, the grass was growing slick underfoot. He longed to disappear in to the Shadow.

But no. He resisted the call - Impa had warned him about it too many times to ignore her advice. The Shadow was a dangerous lure for Sheikah - being within it nourished them, healed them from the exposure of light, cradled them like a parent holding a beloved child. But its call was strong - the longer one spent in the Shadow, the harder it was to return to the world of Light, the worse the withdrawal was.

He used it now, though - barely skimming the surface, using it to boost himself up the cliff face. Balancing on the precipice, he re-emerged, keeping himself hidden from the Gerudo patrol that so often came by. Gazing down at them for a moment, Sheik shook his head then turned to continue on to the lake.

The lake, he discovered as he approached, was in dismal state. Its waters were murky; a dull slate grey tinged with flecks of something black and slick, leaving a faint residue where it lapped the surface. The air was dotted with circling guays, tektites scattered across the dried grass leading towards it - he dodged them, avoided the rocks spat at him by the octoroks that inhabited the waters beneath the bridge, and found himself on an island marked with a dead tree.

The platform was there, a flat bed of stone unmarked by the dying grass and tainted water. Sheik moved across to it almost as if in a trance, crouching down on the stone itself and tracing his fingers across the symbol of water etched there.

He closed his eyes.

He could see a river, now, burdened with things caught in the stream. But these were not the usual branches and leaves and debris caught by water - people and events caught by time, streams of possibility and change.

"Time passes," he found himself whispering, "People move... like a river's flow, it never ends."

And the water stilled, and in its mirror-like surface, Sheik could see change. Himself as a boy and himself as now, Zelda as a frightened child and as a Queen, even what he assumed the Hero looked like when he had first pulled the sword and how he suspected he would look when he awoke. "The clear water's surface reflects growth," he murmured.

He knew the song, now. The Serenade of Water, Impa had told him it was called - five simple notes played on his little handheld flute that would carry someone to this point.

One down, then. Only five left to go.

 

His next port of call had been Kokiri Forest. Skirting the cliffs that fringed southern Hyrule, Sheik had come across the woods soon enough, plunging in heedless of the dangers. He could leave, now - play the Serenade and be instantly transported back to the lake, no matter what happened to him here.

It took him perhaps an hour to acknowledge that he was lost.

These were not, thankfully, the Lost Woods renowned for people entering and never leaving. Neither was it Kokiri Forest proper - instead, it was nameless, territory-less land.

He was close, though. He was certain of it.

And that thought was only confirmed when an orb of pink flashed in to view. A fairy - he knew that the Kokiri were guarded by fairies always, and this one could well lead him to them. He would need a guide - not even Sheik was so confident in his skills that he would be able to navigate the Lost Woods on his own - and the best guide would be one of the guardian fairies found in the forest.

It took some doing, ducking and weaving through the trees, following the little fairy. But soon, there was good clear daylight pouring through it, and Sheik emerged out of the trees to find himself atop a cliff overlooking a village.

It was almost cute, in a rural sort of way. Little houses, built from what looked like the remains of trees, dotted the place. There were fences, a shop, a path that led off to a tree so large that Sheik could see it from his vantage point - that must have been the Great Deku Tree.

Steeling himself for a moment, Sheik set off, following the cliff's edge until he approached the meadow where the Great Deku Tree resided. It was dead, as Impa had told him on his first night in the Boundary, but even there, its power remained.

"The Deku Tree will come back one day," said a childishly soft voice from behind him.

Sheik almost jumped, turning around - he hadn't even heard the little girl approach, something that was normally unheard of for a Sheikah. But there she was - a Kokiri girl, a fairy bobbing over her shoulder. Green boots, green clothing, even green hair - the only thing that was not green were her bright blue eyes.

She studied him for a moment, and then said, "You came from the outside, right? To help? Because there's lots of monsters in the forest, now." A smile, too old for her young face, crossed her features. "The others don't realise it, but it's already been six and a half years since things went bad. They don't see time the way I do."

Finally, Sheik's tongue loosened enough to admit, "I am not really here to help, I'm afraid, but..." He studied her for a moment, and then sighed. "I came here to learn something. In half a year, I will need to teach that something to someone, and then he will come to help."

Immediately, a smile of realisation came to her face. "Oh!" she chirped, "You need to know something to help Link, right? I know he's coming back, soon."

It was fortunate Sheik had good balance. He had nearly fallen in to the Deku Tree's meadow. "How do you...?" he gaped, staring at her.

"I know a lot of things," she shrugged. "I'm Saria, by the way."

"Sheik," he murmured, then asked, "Can you take me to the Forest Temple?"

Saria considered for a moment, then shook her head. "I want to go," she said sadly, "But there are bad things in the meadow, now. _His_ monsters." She bit her lip thoughtfully, then said, "I can lead you through the woods as far as I can go, though."

He nodded. "That is sufficient," he said softly, and offered her a tentative smile. "Thank you, Saria."

And she smiled back. "Anything to help Link," she said, and took his hand to lead him to his next destination.

 

Moblins. The Sacred Forest Meadow was infested with Moblins.

Sheik had only seen them once, stealing through the ruins of Castle Town to get a look at Ganondorf's castle. But the sheer size of them, and the size of the very long spears they held, and the sheer potency of the stink that emanated from them, all ensured that he definitely didn't want to see them any closer.

And now they were between him and the Forest Temple, and the next song he had to learn.

For a moment, he considered the maze they inhabited, then nodded. "Saria," he murmured, crouching down to the Kokiri's level, "Climb on my back. I may be able to get us up there."

She blinked, but did as he asked. Standing again (he could barely feel her weight, only knew she was there by the arms around his shoulders), he took a breath, then leapt up on to the nearest wall.

It was almost dizzying. They would leap straight over the heads of Moblins too stupid to know to look up, pausing only as they reached the edge of the maze and the biggest, ugliest Moblin of them all. Waiting until the one beneath them moved away, Sheik turned to give Saria a conspiratory grin, hurled a Deku nut at the big one hard enough to make the thing yell and rub at its blinded eyes, and leapt down, darting around it and up on to the stairs where they were safe from it.

They had reached the Sacred Forest Meadow.

Saria gave a cry of delight, wriggling off Sheik's back and running for a stump near what Sheik assumed was the entrance to the temple. Pulling an ocarina out, she started playing a tune, bright and jaunty and somehow fitting - but that went unnoticed as he crossed to the next warp platform.

And suddenly, he could see a boy in green approaching Saria on the tree stump, both ocarinas raised in duet.

"A memory of younger days," he found himself murmuring, and suddenly there was another song in his head and on his lips and in his fingers, Saria's ocarina joining with his flute as he played. The Minuet of Forest - a song to bring Link back to the place his best and oldest friend had spent her days.

Two down, four to go.

 

He had made his way back with the help of Saria's fairy - now that she knew how to avoid the Moblins, she told him, she could find her own way back. He was the one that needed help - if he got lost in the Lost Woods, as he very well could, he may well have never found his way out.

To that end, her very own fairy accompanied him out of the forest, leading them back to Kokiri Forest. Night was beginning to fall, and with Saria's blessing, he was to spend a night in the Hero's old house.

The bed was too small. That was the first thing he noticed. Gazing at it blankly, Sheik took a blanket and curled up on the floor for a restless night's sleep.

He left before dawn, not wanting to alert the attention of the other Kokiri. Saria's fairy had long returned to her in the woods, but as he crossed the bridge to return to the field, it zoomed down to butt against his head.

Sheik looked up and smiled - on top of one of the tall pillars in the area, Saria was perched, smiling warmly. "Good luck!" she called, grinning and swinging her legs, "And tell Link I'll be waiting for him!"

"I will," he smiled back, and added silently, _Sage of the Forest_. Because there was no denying, now, that that was what Saria was.

The rest of the day's journey took him as far as Kakariko. Night was beginning to fall as he approached, creeping in around the edges, the back alleys. This was his home, but he felt a profound disconnect to it - it felt wrong, alien, like it was simultaneously the most important place of his life and the location of his darkest nightmares.

Especially considering his destination. Even as night fell, he stole like a thief to the graveyard where generations of his people laid in restless slumber. And overlooking this city of the dead like a beast, crouching and waiting to devour anyone foolhardy enough to approach, was the Shadow Temple.

It was almost irresistible. Crouching at its entrance, the song came to his mind without second thought - a Nocturne for the night tainting the sky and the interior of the temple. And without thinking of the consequences, he entered.

There were illusions in the way, walls solid and illusionary, deep pits. But the Shadow Temple was designed for the Sheikah - he traversed them as if he had followed these steps a thousand times before.

The Shadow was everywhere, here. No need to slip in to it, for it was already all around him, the whispers and murmurs painfully loud here. Sheik wanted to cover his ears, to flee, but he didn't until he reached the gallery.

A room of paintings of skulls. But these weren't just works of art - these were tombs, Sheikah souls trapped in the brush strokes. He gazed at them, at their burning, living eyes, and wondered if one day he would become a painting as well.

"Here lies Hyrule's bloody history of greed and hatred," one whispered, and the rest took up the call. And for a moment, Sheik, too, hated - the enemies that had stolen his family from him, the ones who had oppressed his people for centuries, the ones that had hunted down and killed his ancestors for sports, the children that jeered in the marketplace, the old men that kicked even young Sheikah to their knees. Eight hundred years of bitterness and rage and white-hot anger poured in to him, the only one able to enact the bloody revenge they desperately wanted.

And then he was just Sheik again, and he was fleeing as if his life and sanity depended on it.

He didn't stop until he was already at the mountain, his feet pounding up the path before collapsing against the cliff wall to catch his breath. His heart was hammering in his chest, palms clammy - never again did he want to feel like he had in the Shadow Temple. All that rage, all that fury - time had seemed to stop there, like he could be drawn in for an eternity and never realise it.

And he had to send Link in there?

The Fire Temple was, at least, somewhat easier to find. Swelteringly hot, but strong and powerful and almost passionate in his heat. The song came easily to him, and he left, slumping down against the rock face atop the crater to cool down.

Only two to go. Then he would be able to help Link.

And when had he started thinking of him as Link, and not as the Hero of Time?

But that could come later. For now, he was beginning to drift off to sleep. Readjusting his position, he pillowed his head on his arms, covered himself with his cloak, and let sleep take him.

 

To contrast with the heat of the crater, he was almost frozen by the time he woke up. Winter was starting to set in, he realised numbly as he stumbled down the passage back towards the crater - he'd stay there just enough to thaw out, then leave. His next destination was Castle Town itself, and then the desert, and that would be the most dangerous - right underneath the noses of the Gerudos.

Castle Town was easy enough. It was largely deserted, enough so that one shadow slipping by could not be found. The shambling dead that filled the marketplace were a little distressing, yes, but he still managed to arrive in the Temple of Time unmolested.

The Prelude of Light came quickly and easily, even if light and shadow were uneasy bedfellows at best. It reminded him of Zelda, this song - light and bright and majestic, somehow.

And then there was only one left.

He was out in the field, night beginning to approach again - he had spent more time than he had realised, climbing back down the mountain. Now, half way between Castle Town and the ranch that sat in the field's centre, he began to take notice of danger.

Guards, Hyrulean Knights that had turned traitor, patrolling the land.

Sheik swore in Sheikah, immediately slipping in to the Shadow. He needed to find a hiding place, and fast - the consequences if Ganondorf's servants found a Sheikah didn't bear thinking about. Castle Town was out of the question; the ranch was a possibility.

Ignoring Impa's warnings about the Shadow, he slipped through it, reaching the ranch in half the time it would have taken the guards. Slipping past the farm house and barn, he found himself in the corral, making for the little building at the ranch's furthest fence. Slipping through the door (or, more correctly, the nearest wall), he emerged back in to the light and promptly realised he was not alone.

"Oh!" exclaimed the girl - perhaps Zelda's age, long red hair and surprised blue eyes, a pitchfork in her hands. Sheik swallowed hard and took a step back, prepared to slip back in to the Shadow if he needed to.

For a moment, he couldn't reply. "I," he started, "Er --"

As if she had only just realised she was holding the pitchfork, the girl dropped it and flushed. "Sorry about that, she said with a reassuring smile, "Erm, are you alright? Only, most people tend to use the door."

She was taking this quite well, Sheik thought dully.

"Sorry," he started softly, "Ganondorf's guards - I can hide myself, but --"

Any further conversation, though, was promptly derailed by a yell from across the corral. "Malon!" shouted a man's voice, "Them guards are coming for an inspection!"

The girl, Malon, whirled around. "Don't just stand there!" she hissed, "Hide!" And without having to be told twice, Sheik threw himself in to the stack of hay.

It was itchy in there - itchy and dusty. Sheik dragged his cowl over his nose, trying desperately not to sneeze. If he did, his life wouldn't be the only one that was forfeit.

After what felt like an eternity, he heard them approach - large, loud men with heavy boots and large swords that enjoyed intimidating teenaged girls, it seemed. "Forgot to clean up?" one jeered, and Sheik saw a blur of movement as he indicated to the pile of hay. Then he grinned, picking up the pitchfork and handing it to her. "Go on," he said, "Give it a fork."

The others laughed even as Malon hesitated. And then she jabbed the pile hesitantly with it - even as Sheik wrapped Shadow around it and drove it forward where his body had been milliseconds before disappearing in to the Shadow again.

They left eventually, and Sheik allowed himself to reappear. Malon was waiting there as he did - her eyes were wide and bright with tears, and he immediately felt poorly for his actions.

"If you hadn't driven the pitchfork in," he said softly, "They might have known someone was hiding. And then you..." Well. It wasn't worth saying, and what was done was done.

"You _scared_ me!" she almost hissed, then her expression dropped. "I didn't want to hurt you... the only Sheikah I ever met was really nice, and I wouldn't want to hurt her either, and --"

"You met a Sheikah?" Sheik frowned.

Malon nodded, subdued. "When I was ten. Her name was Impa - she had a little girl with her." She was making eye contact - no, Sheik realised, studying the red hue of his eyes. "You have the same eyes as her," she concluded. "Do you know her?"

Sheik nodded silently. "I think, Malon," he said softly, "We have some things to talk about."

 

Malon was a new friend, now (even if one of her cuccos had given him a rather nasty peck on the back of one hand), but the desert was an old one. He slipped past the Gerudo, crossed the River of Sand easily, set out through the desert. He didn't need the Lens of Truth - his Poe guide appeared (as a blur) even to his waking Sheikah eyes.

And then the Desert Colossus was looming, and the last song was on his lips and in his hands, the sixth song burnt in to memory.

And then he turned around, and returned to where Zelda was waiting for him.


	5. High Ground

There were only days left. It was almost summer, almost time for Link's awakening, fifteen days until their salvation and until Sheik's primary duties would begin.

But for now, it was Zelda's seventeenth birthday, and she was luxuriating in the sun for the first time in seven years.

Perched on a rock opposite her, Sheik smiled at the obvious joy on her face. How long had it been since she had got to feel sunlight on her face, to breathe the fresh air? Even if this air was significantly more fresh than he was used to, even if he had still regularly got to leave, even he was enjoying it.

They were not in Hyrule. That, given Ganondorf's ability to pry in to (almost) all of its corners, would be suicidal. Instead, Impa had sent them to one of the peaks of the Snowpeak Mountain Range, North of Hyrule's borders. Earlier, when the sky had still been clear, the two could see all the way past the fields to where Ganondorf's castle sat, crouched like an oversized gargoyle overlooking those foolish enough to pass beneath it.

But beyond Hyrule's borders, it had begun to change. Dead and dying grass turned fresh and thick and green, giving way to clear streams of water sourced from the glaciers atop the mountains they were now in. Even this close to summer, the summits of the mountains were still capped with snow and ice and glaciers.

But here, above the line of the low clouds that now obscured their view back towards Hyrule, settled in a rocky region free of snow and ice, it was pleasant and almost warm in the sun.

Zelda's first reaction as the modified warp magic had whisked them atop the mountaintop had been to throw back the hood of her cloak and laugh, face upraised towards the sun. Sheik, never one for strong sunlight, had nevertheless found her obvious enjoyment rubbing off on him - seeing her happy made him happy, as well.

So while she smiled at the setting sun and watched it stain the low clouds pinks and purples and golds, he simply watched her.

She was beautiful, there was no denying that. And he loved her - there was no denying that, either. The only question was whether he loved her as a brother or as more, something he could not work out.

And even if he did feel more than brotherly towards her, and even on the spectacularly unlikely off chance that she returned those feelings, how would that possibly make a difference towards her? He would still die to protect her, no matter what. He would still serve her, no matter what. There was no future between royalty and one of the Sheikah.

She seemed to be singularly unaware of his musings, something of which he was quite grateful. Her face was turned away from him, gazing at the pastel coloured clouds, lit by the glow of the sun turning their edges to gold.

And then she turned back, and Sheik was almost speechless at the expression on her face - joy tinged with deep melancholy, happiness and sadness and fear all mixed together.

"Sheik," she said softly, "Do you think he will succeed?"

And because he couldn't do anything else, couldn't tell her what he truly thought, every deep fear and dark thought, he simply nodded. "I do, yes," he said quietly.

But the Hero of Time was a seventeen-year-old boy, barely older than Zelda. He had been sleeping for seven years, and he was to be thrown in to a world utterly unfamiliar. Sheik was not sure he could do the task set before the Hero, and he knew this land now, knew of its hidden dangers.

He supposed that was why he was to guide the Hero. He could not clear the evil from the temples, he could not awaken the Sages, but he could prevent the hidden dangers spread throughout the land from taking the Hero before his time.

Zelda nodded solemnly, her hands in her lap. "I suppose," she said quietly, "If the hope of the Hero keeps the people going, then our faith in him must keep _him_ going. We must believe he will succeed, or else he will not."

Then, she looked away. "But," she said softly, "I fear what will happen if he does not succeed. Link is our only hope."

They were both silent for a moment. Then, finally, Sheik said, "He is only a boy. He has been sleeping for seven years - even if he does succeed, he will still have lost all of that time." A rueful smile crosses his face. "Even if we succeed, it is at the expense of his adolescence."

Zelda nods, still not meeting his eye. "I know," she said, and suddenly looked at him. There was fierce determination in her blue eyes. "I know," she repeated, "And that's why I intend to send him back when he has succeeded."

Sheik nodded silently. "Back through time?" he asked gently, "Using your abilities as the seventh, so that he can regain what he lost?"

There was something fundamentally uncomfortable with this, something that told him no, this would not be the most advisable course of action, but it seemed logical. Hyrule was saved, and Link got to live out his life.

Zelda was still silent. Finally, as if she could no longer resist the words, she looked up at Sheik with wide blue eyes, and said, "I am seventeen years old today, Sheik." And her voice dropped. "And the world could end tomorrow."

Sheik nodded silently, unsure of what she was getting at.

"And," she continued softly, "I do not want to die without having ever been kissed."

Well, then. He had not been expecting her to say that.

"Zelda," he almost stuttered, "What? I mean..." He gave her a helpless look. What was he supposed to do - go out and find someone for her to kiss just in case the world ended? Or was he supposed to... take matters in to his own hands?

Zelda lowered her head, allowing her loose hair to slip in front of her eyes. "You know that you are my best friend, Sheik," she said quietly, "And I cannot deny that you are attractive."

Her hands were knotted in her skirt, utterly unable to look up and make eye contact. He felt much the same, only he had no skirt to hide his fidgeting.

She took a breath, then said, "I would very much like it if the first person that kissed me was you."

For just a moment, Sheik was quite unable to breathe.

Then he stood, almost shaking, crossing from his perch to kneel in front of her. "Zelda, are you sure?" he asked gently. "I ask this not as your protector or as your servant, but as your friend. This could..."

_This could change everything._

She nodded, subdued. "I want to," she said softly, "I know that we are only friends - this will not be a grand romance." For just a moment, she looked tired. "But I trust you, and I love you as one of my closest and dearest friends, and I want this to be with you."

A faint grin quirked on her face for a moment. "And you are really quite nice to look at."

Sheik flushed slightly, then stood and reached out to take her hands, helping her to her feet. For a moment, he just gazed at her uncertainly, hands locked together.

"Alright," he murmured gently.

Zelda gazed up at him for a moment, then closed her eyes. Sheik did too, and was suddenly aware of every single one of his other senses - the touch of wind in his hair, the warmth on his back, the softness of her hands in his, the soft gentle sound of her breathing. The smell of her hair.

He took another breath, then lowered his head - and promptly accidentally bumped his nose against her. Zelda stifled a giggle, and then the next thing he was aware of was a pair of soft, warm lips against his.

It was pleasant, yes. She was warm and gentle and soft, only their hands and mouths in contact, neither daring to move any further. They stayed like that for just a moment, and then her mouth left his, and Sheik opened his eyes.

Zelda looked a little pink and rather pleased. "That was nice," she said quietly, a hint of a smile on her face. "Thank you for indulging me."

"It was of no inconvenience," he reassured her, smiling a little as well. "It was nice for me as well."

But, much to his profound relief, only just ‘nice' - not the mind blowing passion he once read about in one of Zelda's books. He was glad to note that he still loved her, still thought she was beautiful, and that was simply it - he had no desire for her, there was no all pervading passion that would change every interaction he ever had with her.

It had just been nice.

"We should probably leave soon," he found himself murmuring, still holding her hands. The sun was slipping beneath the clouds, now, and even towards the end of spring, it was chilly up in the mountains.

Zelda nodded. "We should, yes," she murmured, and slid the two sticks out of the pocket of her skirt. Fashioned like the message sticks they used, these ones instead drew a person back to a predetermined place. Impa had used them in the first place to set up this time in the sun for Zelda's birthday.

She set one in Sheik's hand, unscrewing the metal cover and holding it between her fingers. He did the same, glancing across at her. "Ready?"

"Ready," she nodded, and they allowed themselves to be transported back home.

At least for a little while longer.

 

"I swear upon Din, Nayru, and Farore..."

"I swear upon Din, Nayru, and Farore."

"To honour and uphold the Sheikah code..."

"To honour and uphold the Sheikah code."

"To eternally follow and serve my masters..."

"To eternally follow and serve my masters."

"To guide and guard and obey..."

"To guide and guard and obey."

"To protect even if it means my life be forfeit..."

"To protect even if it means my life be forfeit."

"To the end of my dying days."

"To the end of my dying days."

"Sheik, I name you a Guardian of the Sheikah, a servant of the Royal Family, a protector of Her Highness the Princess Zelda, and a guide to the Hero of Time."

"Thank you, Impa."

 

For now, he had left the safety of the Boundary, the gap between worlds. Now, Sheik was perched uncomfortably in a high-up niche, overlooking the platform below.

It was empty. It had been empty for the past five hours.

Today was the day, as promised by Zelda - seven years to the day that Link had first drawn the Master Sword from its pedestal and awoken as the Hero of Time. It had been seven extremely long years for all of them - but now, the end of the suffering and pain and misfortune was within sight.

He would awaken soon.

Preferably sooner rather than later, Sheik thought with an irritated grumble, shifting to avoid a cramp in his leg.

But that ‘sooner' was, apparently, rapidly becoming ‘now' - with a start that almost made him lose his precarious perch, a faint blue glow illuminated the empty pedestal - and then the slight glow became a sun, so bright and intense that he could see the bones of his hand through both his skin and his eyelids.

And when it faded, there stood a boy.

No - a young man.

He knew the basics of his appearance from Zelda - blonde hair, blue eyes, dressed in a green tunic and cap and brown leather boots. But that did nothing to diminish the absolute power he seemed to radiate - the Hero of Time, the saviour of Hyrule, the one who would drive the darkness from the land. Sheik gazed down at him, almost trembling from the intensity of it.

The Hero took a hesitant step, and wobbled like a newborn foal.

Sheik hid a smile, watching as the Hero started to find his feet some more. There was a fairy with him - Navi, Zelda had called her, a little blue orb with wings. She was chattering to Link, her high-pitched voice unclear from his vantage point.

Heart pounding, running through the words he was to say to the Hero, Sheik took a breath and leaped down from his perch. And the Hero stopped at the almost inaudible sound of Sheik's boots impacting on the ground, whirling around with sword in hand.

Sheik stood impassively, although silently, he was admiring the Hero's quick instincts. "I've been waiting for you, Hero of Time," he said softly.

The Hero simply gazed back at him. His sword and shield were still in his hands - he was left-handed, Sheik noted idly - but they lowered a fraction at his words. "Who are you?" he said, eyes flying open in surprise at the sound of his own voice.

Sheik didn't answer straight away. Instead, eyes half closed, he launched straight in to the speech he had been rehearsing for six months, ensuring every word was in place, every word suited to the occasion.

"When evil rules all," he started, "An awakening voice from the Sacred Realm will call those destined to be Sages, who dwell in the five temples. One in a deep forest, one on a high mountain... One under a vast lake... One within the house of the dead..."

Oh, he did not want to send the Hero in there. Not one little bit.

But still, he continued onwards - "One inside a goddess of the sand. Together with the Hero of Time, the awakened ones will bind the evil and return the light of peace to the world. This is the legend of the temples passed down by my people, the Sheikah."

And finally, he answered Link's first question. "I am Sheik," he said softly, "Survivor of the Sheikah."

And the Hero smiled across at him, as tentatively as a child. "I'm Link," he replied.

The words he had chosen seemed hopelessly inadequate, now. Nothing had really prepared him for Link - not the seemingly contradictory mix of innocence and power, not the expression in his blue eyes - they held no fear, looking at him, only wonder and curiosity.

"As I see you standing there," he nearly choked, "Holding the mythical Master Sword... you really do look like the legendary Hero of Time. If you believe the legend, you have no choice. You must look for the five temples and awaken the five Sages."

Link nodded. "How do I find them?" he asked, and the determination in his eyes reminded Sheik forcibly of Zelda for just a moment.

"One is waiting for the time of awakening in the Forest Temple," he explained, more at ease with this - he could guide Link to the next location. He couldn't hold his hand for him, couldn't give him precisely what he needed - if they were to have any chance of defeating Ganondorf, then Link had to do this at least partially on his own.

Sheik would just ensure that no harm came to him in the process.

"The Sage is a girl I am sure you know," he continued, and Link's eyes widened.

"Saria?" he breathed.

Sheik nodded. "Because of the evil power in the temple, she cannot hear the awakening call from the Sacred Realm. Unfortunately, equipped as you currently are, you cannot even enter the temple... But, if you believe what I'm saying, you should head to Kakariko Village."

To reach the temple, Link would have to scale an unscaleable height - at least, unscaleable to a Hylian. To a Sheikah, it was child's play - and to a Hylian with a Sheikah toy, the same.

"Do you understand, Link?" he asked gently. The boy looked practically shell shocked - well, he supposed that was only understandable, given that he had just awoken from a seven year sleep, been told that he and only he could save the world from the tyrant he didn't even know had taken control of the kingdom, and been given the task of clearing out five separate temples and awakening five sages - including his closest childhood friend. Sheik would probably be overwhelmed too, in that case.

"Yeah," Link whispered hesitantly, "I have to go to Kakariko Village and get something, then go to the forest and..."

There was something forlorn in his eyes, and suddenly Sheik wanted nothing more to erase it from his expression, to chase the demons away. But he simply stayed where he was, unable to do a thing, helpless to help.

"To save the forest girl, you need another skill," he confirmed. "Head to Kakariko Village!"

And the expression in Link's eyes shifted to grim determination. "I will," he nodded, sheathing his sword and replacing the shield, turning to start for the door before stopping. "And Sheik?"

"Yes?" Sheik murmured.

"Thanks." And Link flashed him a smile so bright that he hadn't thought it was possible, one that made his heart beat so loudly he was sure Link could hear it from where he stood.

Sheik was still smiling by the time Link was out the door.

 

He watched Link go - always a little way behind, watching from the roof tops as he dodged the shambling undead that filled the town, then from the wall that surrounded the town as he got his first look at the land.

It was dark, near the town - further away, its influenced diminished, but the look on Link's face as he emerged in to the darkness, the once brilliantly clean moat purple and sickly-looking, gazing up at the flames that surrounded Death Mountain... it was not encouraging. He looked afraid - and that was fine, he supposed, it was only natural.

True to his word, Link's first action was to hurry for the little bridge that spanned the river at that point. Sheik followed silently - the walls of the town, then the tops of cliff faces, always keeping Link in his sight.

Kakariko was somewhat more difficult. The people there were not hostile to outsiders, but they were perhaps wary, afraid - Ganondorf and his guards held the village in an iron grip. Disobedience was punished with all due speed and with more severity than the crime deserved.

And there was a bounty on his head. That was why Sheik kept himself from view, kept himself hidden despite the almost overwhelming temptation to reveal himself to him and lead him to where he needed to go.

Link was going to the graveyard. He could keep watch there, but he could not keep watch as he jumped in to one of the larger tombs.

Where did that one lead to? He was sure there was an actual exit - not another grave, somewhere in the town proper. Giving one last look to where Link had disappeared, Sheik shook his head and headed back to town, taking a perch near the windmill to wait for his return.

Of course. The windmill itself. Sheik almost laughed.

It was nearing night, by the time Link re-emerged, and perhaps foolhardy to press on to the forest. Link seemed to think the same thing - newly-won hookshot in hand, he slowly walked back down the stairs leading to the field, locating a tree, and setting up camp beneath it.

Sheik slid soundlessly in to another tree and closed his eyes. It would be a long night.

 

The next day was more suitable for trekking across the country. A brief excursion to the Ranch, where he helped liberate it from the hands of the stable hand who had been promised a fortune by Ganondorf and stole a prize horse, and Link was riding like the wind towards the forest.

Sheik could not keep up on foot, so as soon as Link was out of sight, he retrieved his lyre from the Shadow and settled down on the grass.

It was peaceful here - he played nothing in particular, fragments of song. And then, with more intent, one particular song - the magic lifted him to his feet, whisked him through air like motes of dust, and redeposited him in the Sacred Forest Meadow.

Saria was there, sad and solemn beyond her years. "Link is awake, isn't he?" she said softly, her eyes wide. Sheik nodded silently. "Then it's time. Can you feel it, Sheik?"

"Feel what?" Sheik murmured.

There were tears in her eyes. "The evil... the contamination in the temple. It's everywhere!" she nearly sobbed.

He took a cautious step towards her, then another, and then enough so that he could kneel in front of her. And before he could even realise what she was doing, she had her small arms around him, face buried against his shoulder, shaking with suppressed sobs.

"I'll never see him again," she nearly whispered, "Or the trees, or the sky, or the fairies at night. Take care of him, Sheik."

And she drew back. "He needs someone," she said quietly, "Someone like you... look after him for me."

"I will," he whispered, and she stepped back, almost immediately more composed.

"I'll leave my fairy to guide you out," she told him, "I won't need her where I'm going. You can take shelter in the Deku Tree's meadow - that's where she will return... afterwards, and where Link will be sent once he has succeeded."

He nodded, unable to speak.

A brief smile crossed Saria's face as she wiped away her last few tears. She looked calm, and composed, and more like a Sage than a little girl. And if even he would miss her, losing her would be heartbreaking for Link. Beneath his cowl, Sheik bit down on his lip.

"Goodbye, Sheik," she said softly, "Send Link my love." And extending a hand to the vines that dangled from the broken remnants of steps, they wrapped around her and lifted her gently up.

Sheik watched her go, then shook his head, scaling one of the cliff faces and taking a seat there. Already, the words he would say to Link were running through his head.

"The flow of time is always cruel..."

 

He had seen Link emerge in to the meadow, and he had taught him the song, and the sound of his lyre and Link's ocarina together had simply felt right. And then he had vanished with a promise to see him again, and watched unseen as Link entered his first temple, and then left for the Deku Tree's meadow with Saria's fairy to guide him, feeling like he had just sent Link to his doom.

For three days, he waited, sleeping behind one of the enormous roots, picking wild fruits and berries to eat, the little waterhole nearby useful for a drink. And then, near sunset on the third day, Link was safely deposited down - exhausted, battered, bloodied in some places. Sheik watched silently as Link conversed with the Deku Tree sprout, and then as Link turned and fled.

He followed him, like he was meant to do, like he would to the ends of the world. And as Link (and Sheik, close behind) emerged out of the woods and in to the field, Link collapsed against one of the nearest trees, curled up in to a ball, and started to weep.

Never so much in his life did Sheik ache to comfort someone. Link looked utterly wretched - exhausted, in pain, physically and emotionally battered. He had been forced to see things Sheik couldn't even imagine, he had lost his oldest and closest friend - and Sheik couldn't even do anything to help him.

He couldn't take his pain away. He was not allowed to go and comfort him. But he could watch over him, ensure that no harm came to him at his most vulnerable, to protect him as much as he knew how to do.

Eventually, Link unfurled, his sobbing ceased. But he still looked drained even as he drank a little red potion and ate a quick dinner of fruits and berries and nuts from the forest. The sun had barely been set an hour before he sighed and curled up at the base of the tree, eyes closing almost of their own accord.

And Sheik watched, and he waited, and he chased off the Poe that tried to approach. And when it started to rain and Link began shivering in his sleep, he retrieved his cloak from the Shadow and approached just close enough to lightly drape it over Link's sleeping form.

For a moment, he lingered, reaching out almost automatically to gently brush Link's sodden bangs out of his face. And Link stirred, reaching for his hand, his eyes opening blearily.

But Sheik was already gone.


	6. Keep The Light On

After the debacle of the Forest Temple, Link seemed to be taking somewhat of a break from his duties.

Still shadowing him where ever he went, Sheik had found himself back at the ranch (to watch Link attempt over and over to beat his own time in racing Malon - at least she seemed alright, something of quite some relief to him), visiting the lake (and, to Sheik's mild horror, swimming across the murky waters to that fishing hut on the shore) and spending almost a full day relaxing with a fishing pole in hand (although he had to admit, even he was impressed when Link managed to haul a Hylian loach out of the water), relaxing in the field with Epona.

Once, he had headed to the Temple of Time. Sheik thought it as good a time as any to give him the means to return there swiftly, teaching him the Prelude of Light. It had been melancholy, teaching him the song - while Link had been bathed in light both natural and magically induced, Sheik stayed firmly in the shadows. And then he had disappeared again, staying only to watch the disappointment on Link's face before silently heading after him.

And he had spent a great amount of time training. That, at least, was more suitable to his mission - training how to use his newly adult body, how to use the hookshot he had acquired at Kakariko and the bow he had won from the Forest Temple, how to ride fast and jump high (for those, Sheik could not follow). Slowly, the ungainly uncertainty began to fade. Link was beginning to move like a Hero, not a child in an adult's unfamiliar body.

He still, however, spent a worrying amount of time napping out in the field.

By the time almost a week had passed, Sheik was at the end of his tether. He was almost considering climbing out of his tree and going to remind Link to get back on track when Link sat up suddenly, reaching up to stroke Epona's nose. "I suppose," he said softly, "I've got to. Sheik told me to."

Sheik remained motionless.

"Yeah!" said a high-pitched, tinkling voice - Sheik recognised it as coming from the little blue orb nearby. "You've gotta go to the mountain - I bet it's the Gorons!"

"He said that, didn't he?" Link nodded, gazing across the field at the volcano overshadowing Kakariko, smiling a little. "I can see Darunia again. Wonder if he remembers me?"

They were facing away from Sheik, now, but he could still catch traces of conversation on the breeze. Still, he was relieved - they had procrastinated enough, Hyrule still needed to be saved.

And if Link couldn't save them, who could?

Following silently behind Link and Epona, watching the distance between them grow, Sheik watched at least until the Hero made his way through Kakariko and up the mountain. Then he found a secluded place, retrieving his lyre to carefully pluck the Bolero he would soon be teaching to Link. Two songs already, and a third hours away - they were making good progress, Sheik thought. There were only three more after that, and then he could defeat Ganondorf, and then Zelda could come out of hiding, and then...

Sheik stopped.

And then Link could be sent back to his own time.

Suddenly, the idea did not appeal so much.

 

It was at least a few hours more until Link finally made it across to the crater. Sheik had taken a perch on its rim where it was (at least marginally) cooler, watching carefully - it was early evening, by now, and the glow from the volcano almost seemed to blot out the stars.

As Link emerged from the entrance to Goron City, dressed in red, Sheik allowed himself just a moment to stare. There was simply no way around it - Link looked _amazing_ in red, the tunic clinging to him in a way that made Sheik's imagination soar and pulse race.

And then he remembered that, mentally, Link was probably still a child and he hastily looked away, almost slipping as he made his way across to the bridge.

There was surprise in Link's face, yes, when Sheik dropped down from the sky in front of him. But he also looked happy to see him, genuinely so, and that was enough to almost make Sheik stutter as he started his speech.

"It is something that grows over time," he started softly, "A true friendship. A feeling in the heart that becomes even stronger over time..."

He could have been talking about himself and Link, Sheik realised suddenly.

"The passion of friendship will soon blossom into a righteous power and through it, you will know which way to go... This song is dedicated to the power of the heart. Listen to the Bolero of Fire..."

Grateful for an excuse not to look at Link again, Sheik looked down at his harp, studying the strings even as he played the Bolero. Link watched him run through it a few times, then raised his ocarina to join with him. Like they had in the Sacred Forest Meadow, like they had in the Temple of Time, the lyre and the ocarina complimented as their owners did.

Tucking the lyre back in to the Shadow, he glanced back up in time to see a gaze so heated that not even the volcano they stood in could compare. Through suddenly dry lips, Sheik practically whispered, "Link, I'll see you again," and took a step backwards.

Link took a step forwards. "Sheik," he murmured, "Wait --"

And he couldn't. Using what illusionary magic he had managed to learn, Sheik summoned up the image of a wall of fire. Link stopped short, and Sheik took another step backwards before noticing the look on his face.

How could the Hero affect him like this? What power did he have over him? Palming a Deku nut, Sheik whispered, "I'm sorry" - even if Link couldn't see it through the cowl - and let the nut fall.

He didn't stop until he reached the cool of the outside air. This time, he made for the fairy fountain nearby, kneeling in front of it and dousing his face with cool water. Hopefully the fairy wouldn't mind - he was hot and tired and bathed in a thin layer of sweat, itching to go and take a cool bath somewhere.

Hmm... there was a bath at Impa's house in Kakariko Village, and enough wards to ensure that he would be undisturbed until Link returned. He got up to leave, and was immediately confronted by the view of a woman wearing... well, a pair of boots and some leaves, from the look of it.

Sheik yelped.

The woman laughed.

Sheik stared.

Giving him an almost conspiratory wink (and Sheik really wasn't certain he wanted conspiratory winks from a woman dressed in vines and - Thrice! - with bright fuchsia hair that seemed to move on its own), she leaned down and murmured, "Welcome, Sheik - I am the Great Fairy of Power."

Sheik, at this point, had quite a few questions. First and foremost was, "...How do you know my name?"

She gave another sensual chuckle, and Sheik found himself recoiling a little. "The Great Fairies of Hyrule know many things, O Guide to the Legendary Hero of Time," she said warmly, and suddenly Sheik found himself engulfed in a wash of warm red light.

And, just like that, he felt replenished.

"When guidance has made you weary, please come back to see me," she told him, then disappeared with another shrieking laugh before he had realised what had happened.

Well. That had been... an experience. Stumbling to his feet, now that he was no longer overheated and overtired, Sheik really could do with a wash, a meal, and a rest.

Glancing back at the entrance to the crater where Link was now presumably battling his way through the Fire Temple, Sheik set out for Kakariko Village.

 

This time, he waited four days for Link. By the time a day had passed, the mountain had grown so aggressive the path had been closed for reasons of safety. After two days, the peak had taken to regularly sending falls of ash down its side, occasionally even reaching in to the village.

Sheik, safe in Impa's warded house, watched from the window, and waited, and hoped.

And, a little before nightfall on the fourth day, the mountain calmed.

Heart in his throat, Sheik left the house, moving invisibly through the town to climb up Kakariko's watchtower. There, he could see a little up the mountain path, watch out for Link - he would return to the village, maybe find somewhere outside of its boundaries to sleep for the night, and then they could set off again.

Almost two hours later, he saw a speck of red moving on down. Still in the tunic the Gorons had given him, then - Sheik continued to wait, watching carefully.

Wait - was Link moving more awkwardly, or was his imagination?

And then something happened to make Sheik's concern grow - a mountain tektite, a thread Link should have dealt with without blinking an eye, jumping at him. Link stumbled to one side, dropped to one knee, and drew the sword with his right hand, slashing at it. It hit, almost as if by accident, and the tektite skittered away to die.

And Link slumped over on to his side, sword sliding out of his hand.

Sheik didn't waste any more time. Not even bothering with the ladder, Sheik simply jumped off the tower, hurrying up the stairs and on to the newly-opened path towards him. As he neared, he began to see the damage - that slightly different shade of red across his left shoulder and arm wasn't fabric, it was blood. The tunic, able to withstand heat, could not apparently withstand fire - it was burnt away, the edges sticking to Link's burnt skin. He was quite unconscious.

His stomach turned, but he still reached out to him, tugging off his tabard and cowl to wrap his hand around the Master Sword to set it back in its scabbard. (It was possibly unnecessary, but Sheik didn't want to take any risks.) Navi bobbed down towards him, her light illuminating the wet-looking wounds even more. "Sheik," she begged, "Please help him... the dragon..."

He nodded. "Of course," he murmured, and, carefully, slowly, making sure to avoid the burns that covered him, he pulled Link in to his arms.

It was slow going, returning to Impa's house. Instead of his customary darting through the shadows, he had to instead cast the illusion that no one was there - all the while carrying someone a good three inches taller than him down two flights of stairs then up two more.

But at last, they reached sanctuary. Sheik hurried to the top level, carefully setting Link down on the bed, face down so that his wounds wouldn't stick. And then he got to work.

The strongest potion he could find was set to one side - he only had one bottle, and so would have to go sparingly with it, but it was already too late to heal without scarring and without pain. He fetched two bowls, both filled with water, then a few spare rolls of bandages and a large piece of gauze he had found in the cupboard.

Link was still unconscious. Sheik was somewhat grateful for that.

The shield and sword were set aside - handling the sword only by its strap, Sheik set them within view of the bed, settling the hat on top of them. His belt was next, as tricky as it was removing it with Link on his stomach, and then, carefully, the tunic and undershirt. There, he was forced to cut around the parts sticking to Link's burns for risk of ripping his skin off, leaving bits of red and white attached to the damaged skin.

He would have to deal with those later, somehow. Sheik didn't know a great deal about first aid, but he was fairly sure that was a bad thing.

Link remained unconscious throughout, something for which Sheik was still profoundly grateful. He was sure he was causing him pain as he ran cool water over it; Link's pulse was rapid, his breathing thin and thready. But the diluted potion, retrieved by Navi's prompting, seemed to help - while still red and blistered, his skin seemed less wet-looking, his pulse and breathing slowing and steadying, the flakes of fabric that had once been stuck to his skin coming off easily without marks.

Thank the Three for red potion, really.

Covering the burn loosely with the gauze to keep it clean, he went to tug off Link's boots. It was at this point that he discovered that Link's ankle was injured - the whimper he made, even unconscious, as Sheik slid the boot off, was testament to that.

Sheik cringed, examining it carefully. It looked painful, swollen and bruised, but his careful examination didn't reveal any fractures - a sprain, perhaps, painful but not disabling.

Well, those he could deal with - he had had sprains before. Using the bandages he hadn't used for the burn, he wrapped it securely. There was no ice, but he could still elevate it on a folded-over pillow, as awkward as that was with Link still lying on his stomach.

There - that should do it. With one last look (he didn't want to chance giving Link potion to drink with him still unconscious), Sheik jumped back down to the lower level, to rest and to wait for Link to recover.

He could wait.

 

Link stirred some time in the early hours in the morning. Sheik was fast asleep, curled up on a blanket beneath the loft, but he still heard the shift in movement and the low, pained groan.

"Wh-who... oww..."

There was another soft mutter, and then silence but for soft breathing again. But Sheik couldn't allow him to fall asleep, again - he remained awake, restless and on edge, until the edges of the door became slowly illuminated by early morning sunlight.

He might as well get up, then.

Sheik could move as silently as a ghost when he wanted to, and he did so now - getting clean water from the rain barrel outside (and narrowly avoiding the man going for an early morning jog), finding fresh dressings for Link's wounds inside, gathering together a meagre breakfast (bread and cheese and an apple for himself, porridge that was more approaching gruel for Link - he didn't want to give him something he couldn't tolerate). Then he crept back up to the loft, watching out for any signs of waking.

Swiftly, carefully, he dabbed more diluted potion on Link's burnt back, shoulder, and arm, setting a clean piece of gauze over it before turning his attention to his ankle. It had slipped off the pillow, and he set it back on there, then set the bowl of gruel and a bottle of water within reach. There - that would do it.

And he stole back down the stairs before Link could wake up.

The process continued for another week. Link spent a great deal of time sleeping, with Sheik stealing up the stairs to change the dressings on his burns and to leave more food and water for him. The only one Sheik saw for the entire duration was Navi, and after he made her promise not to tell Link of his presence, they did not have the chance to talk much.

After four days, he graduated Link up to more solid foods, after six days, he started leaving a few books for him to read (whatever Impa had on her shelves that weren't, for one, tomes on esoteric topics, and two, that weren't written in Sheikah).

After seven days, Link caught him in the act.

He hadn't gone to change his dressings, that time - it was only lunch time, and he had changed them that morning. But as he left the buttered bread and the sliced apple and the bottle of milk (he had stolen over to the ranch earlier that day, had begged a bottle off Malon) beside the bed where Link was curled up on his non-injured side and facing away from him, Link seemed to sit up with superhuman speed, catching his wrist before Sheik could even react.

His blue eyes widened in surprise. "Sheik?" he asked curiously, "You've been the one looking after me?"

Sheik found himself flushing. "I, uh," he floundered for a moment, then settled on, "Yes."

A hopelessly inadequate answer, but the only one he could give, for now.

Link's grip on Sheik's wrist loosened a fraction, just enough for him to pull it free. But much to his own surprise, he didn't take the opportunity to flee - instead, he remained there, crouched in front of the bread and apple and milk, feeling utterly naked under Link's searching gaze.

Then he smiled, and the intensity faded a little. "Sit with me," he almost begged, "I've been so _bored_ \- the only one I've had to talk to is Navi, and she, uh." He shrugged sheepishly with his good shoulder.

"I heard that!" Navi chirruped, and Link turned to frown at her. "Hey, what's that look for?" she pouted.

"How come you didn't tell me Sheik was here?" he asked plaintively.

Navi bobbed twice in the air, then zoomed out the window. Sheik stifled laughter, and apologetically told him, "I asked her not to."

"Oh," Link said softly, then said, "How come? I like talking to you."

Sheik didn't answer straight away, settling himself on the end of the low bed. "How does your foot feel?" he asked instead, "You should be doing little exercises - moving your ankle, stretching it out. Otherwise, it will begin to atrophy."

"What does ‘atrophy' mean?" Link asked, and Sheik was reminded of the fact that Link had grown up in a forest.

"It means ‘waste away'," he shrugged. "You injured it, but you don't want it to weaken so much you can no longer walk. If you don't exercise muscles, they become weak."

"Oh," Link said again, staring at his foot. "Then how come I wasn't all... weak and stuff when I woke up? If I had been asleep for seven years, how come I could walk and move around and how come I didn't starve and why did I have bigger clothes?"

Sheik didn't have any answers for that, so he simply didn't volunteer them.

Link made a frustrated noise, drawing his uninjured leg up to his chest and propping his chin on his knee, wincing as the skin of his back stretched. "I've lost seven years of my life," he murmured, "And I'm not even... I thought I was a Kokiri, but the Deku Tree sprout said I was really a Hylian. And now I have to be a Hero that will save Hyrule..."

For a moment, the Hero of Time looked like an overwhelmed, bewildered young man, caught between childhood and adulthood. Then he shook his head. "It's not even that, too," he muttered, twisting his hands together. "It's... ever since I woke up, I've been... changing."

There was a distinct pink tinge to Link's cheeks now. "What do you mean, changing?" Sheik frowned.

"Like..." He glanced up at Sheik through his bangs, his expression almost... shy. "Like I'm starting to... think things I've never thought before. Noticing things. I mean, things that adults notice and that kids don't, like my mind is catching up with my body."

Then he shook his head, laughing a little awkwardly. "Forget I told you that," he almost muttered, "I can't believe I'm telling you this, considering..."

But what Link had been considering, Sheik never found out.

 

The days continued. Link was restless, still unable to use his sword arm to its full extent - Hyrule could wait, Sheik told him, and there was no point of him charging out to clear the temples if he couldn't swing a sword. His ankle was healing nicely, the burns slower but also on track, managing to make it down the stairs so he could walk around the room to exercise it (and to swap out the books he was reading, he was going through them at quite a rate). The days filled with long conversation, shared meals, Sheik becoming accustomed to being in close quarters with someone again and ignoring the feeling in his stomach every time they brushed against one another.

But those conversations took place only when Sheik was actually there. He had taken to wandering far, checking up on the forest and the mountain to ensure that conditions there were still fine (they were). If he was scrupulously honest with himself, he was only checking up on these as an excuse - he couldn't stay with him for much longer, for much the same reason that he hadn't wanted to know that he was the one caring for him.

Because for a guide to have feelings for the one they were guiding was dangerous in the extreme.

The next port of call was the lake, though, and that would be more troubling - Link might have had a tunic to prevent extreme levels of heat (for all the good that had done), but he had nothing to allow him to breathe underwater. So with that in mind, Sheik headed for Zora's Domain.

That, and for the simple reason that the lake had almost entirely dried up.

By the time he reached the Domain, he had noticed other worrying signs. The river itself was a pitiful version of itself, barely trickling across the mud in places. In at least a few places, he spotted dead octoroks in areas that had lost water enough that they could no longer survive. And as he progressed up the river, other things changed. It grew cold. Ice was visible in the stiller parts of the river. And, he discovered as he reached the waterfall, it had begun to snow.

In summer?

Jumping across to the Domain, he had his answer. The entire place had frozen over, enchanted snow still drifting from the ceiling. Even the waterfall had frozen in to a solid pillar of ice.

"No," Sheik whispered, his breath puffing out in to clouds in front of him. Where was the Sage in all this mess? Without her, there would be no saving Hyrule.

What was her name? Zelda had told him once - she was the Zora princess, he knew, and Zelda hadn't liked her much as a child, but she was essential now. Reaching out with every sense he possessed, he tried to search for anything that could locate her - a twinge of magic, something in the air that tugged at him like a beacon. Water magic was not his domain, but this... this was important.

There.

He could see her just below the snow-brushed surface, her outstretched fingertips only inches from freedom. This would take careful manipulation so that he wouldn't hurt her - slowly, carefully, he splayed his hands against the frozen surface and began to channel fire.

It started slowly - his palms stuck painfully to the damp surface, then his fingers curled in to slush. But the ice was melting, enough so that the princess's hand was free - then an arm, then her shoulder and head.

She woke up when the ice around her upper body was halfway melted - with a ragged gasp, she grabbed Sheik's wrist, clinging for dear life. Her expression was glazed over, but she was still alive and breathing - allowing her a moment to get her composure together, he gently asked, "Princess, are you alright?"

"Yes," she said in a small voice, mostly silent until the ice around her legs was more like slush. With a wet squelch, she pulled them free, hauling herself on to the ice sheet. The expression on her face had shifted, now. "You freed me," she said imperiously, "So, naturally, you should get a reward. Well, what do you want?"

"Nothing, Princess," he said, bowing his head, "Nothing but advice. I am the guide to the one chosen to free Hyrule from Ganondorf's grasp --"

"Oh, you know Link!" she said delightedly.

Sheik blinked a little, hiding a smile. "Yes, I do."

"Good," she nodded, "My future husband is a great Hero."

Sheik blinked again, and firmly squashed down the possessive voice that had immediately piped up with, "Mine!" Link wasn't his - Link could never be his. "I suppose he is," he said neutrally, "He was injured, but when he heals, his next port of call is your Temple. I don't suppose there is a way to...?"

The Princess immediately nodded. "He needs a Zora tunic to breathe under the water," she said promptly, "My father has one of those, or there's one in the shop. It's very expensive, but I think Link will agree that it will be worth it. And he will need iron boots to stand beneath the surface - there is a pair of those in the caverns near the fountain."

Sheik nodded, faintly bewildered. "Er, alright," he said cautiously, and then suddenly had to chase after the Zora as she suddenly turned and started up to the throne room. "Wait!"

But she had stopped there, her expression forlorn, staring at the block of red ice her father was enclosed in. "Blue fire," she murmured sadly, "There's blue fire in the cavern. He will have to get it there."

To Sheik, she said, "I will go to the Temple and wait for him. You, you tell him where to get the tunic and the boots. And," she grinned, "Tell him his future bride is expecting him!"

And she squelched off without a second look.

Sheik was left, somewhat dazed, in the iced-over throne room. "Your daughter is a little spoilt," he remarked to the frozen monarch, then headed back down after her.

He had things to tell Link... although perhaps not the part about his future bride.


	7. You Don't Even Know My Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence.

With all the agility and speed of a cat, Sheik ducked low beneath the sword that would have almost taken his head off otherwise, pivoting on one foot and aiming his booted foot at his opponent's stomach. But his opponent wasn't so easily caught - instead, Sheik's foot impacted with a metal shield, sending a jolt up his leg.

A gauntleted hand wrapped around Sheik's ankle and tugged hard, and unbalanced in the mud from the recent rain, Sheik went down hard on his side.

"Okay, one each," he grinned from behind the cowl, and Link laughed, sheathed the sword, and reached down to help Sheik to his feet.

"I'm getting better at this, aren't I?" Link asked quietly, and Sheik noticed that he still had his hand around his own.

"You are," Sheik smiled, and meant it. Link's ankle had healed up nicely, and his shoulder was well on the way - aside from some pain and a bit of residual redness, he had most of his mobility back. His burnt skin was healing nicely, the blisters... well, the gauze had come in handy, as had the potion he had... permanently borrowed from the potion shop on the other end of town. "Best out of three?"

Link glanced down at their still-joint hands and let go like a shot, his cheeks going pink. "Sure," he murmured, taking a few steps back and getting in to a ready stance.

Sheik was also feeling particularly warm, grateful that the cowl at least covered his red face as well. "And go," he said simply, launching straight in to another attack.

This time, though, the sparring seemed to have an additional layer of meaning to it. It wasn't just a fight - Link's gaze locked with Sheik's at every seeming possibility, the warmth and wonder in their blue depths proving to be quite a potent distraction.

Perhaps Link was feeling the same way, because Sheik had managed to get the upper hand - Link forced back against a tree, his hands pinned by Sheik's above his head. For a moment, he just stayed there, then a crafty look crossed his face - before Sheik could react, his booted foot swept Sheik's from beneath him.

And Sheik went down again - on his back with Link on top of him. He could feel the head radiating from his body soaking through the thin fabric of their clothing, the pressure of his body against Sheik's torso - Link's face was far, far too close. Again, Sheik felt exposed simply from a look.

If he didn't move, he was going to do something foolish - like kiss him. Drawing in a breath, he let himself disappear in to the Shadow, reappearing a little distance away. Link had landed on his stomach when he had disappeared, and was now giving him a look of... what? Disappointment?

"You win," Sheik breathed, and began readjusting his rumpled clothing. The cowl had almost slipped down in the process; he adjusted it carefully.

Link pushed himself back up to a sitting position, looking almost forlorn. "Why don't you let me see your face?" he asked suddenly.

"It's the rules," Sheik murmured, "You are the Hero and I am only your guide. Nothing more."

And suddenly, the rules just didn't make sense any more. Why _couldn't_ Link see his face? They had lived alongside with each other for almost a month. They had sparred together, spent hours talking - Sheik slept curled up on a pile of blankets next to Link's bed, and still he couldn't let him see his face. He didn't even eat in front of him.

And then there was the added advantage of it forming a barrier between the two, hiding away all of Sheik's impure thoughts and the smiles that crossed his face when he watched Link and the way his cheeks reddened when Link returned from bathing, damp hair flicked carelessly out of his face. He needed to keep his distance - anything else would be against every code he was supposed to follow.

Link nodded, still looking displeased. "Well, the rules suck," he said flatly, then pushed himself back up and getting his things together. "I guess I have to keep going," he continued, "Now that I'm healed up." He looked unhappy, his tone snappish. "So, guide, tell me where to go. That's your job, isn't it?"

And that hurt more than Sheik could say, more than he could ever show. But he kept any trace of emotion out of his expression, out of his voice, instead, he calmly told him, "Your next destination is the Water Temple beneath Lake Hylia, but first you must visit Zora's Domain. A cavern in the Zora Fountain holds one piece of equipment you are required to have before entering, King Zora has the other - to get that from him, you will be required to take a sample of blue fire from the cavern."

Sheik glanced away, hating what he was about to say. "Now that you are healed," he said softly, "And my care is no longer required, it would be best to leave Impa's house. If you need rest, you may return, but I will no longer be there." And he looked up, meeting blue eyes and almost losing his resolve. "Our previous closeness must be forgotten," he almost choked, "I will return to simply being your guide."

And ignoring Link's cry of, "Sheik, wait, _no_!", Sheik let the Deku nut fall and disappeared.

 

He had fled to the Domain, skidding slightly over the ice - the hole that he had rescued the Zora princess from had frozen over again, only a slight discolouration in the ice to mark where it had happened. But he ignored it in favour of the slightly more stable rock that sloped upwards to the throne room, nodding to the frozen Zora King before slipping past.

The Fountain had not yet frozen over, although it was still bitterly cold, chunks of ice floating in the water. Sheik picked his way across the ice floes carefully, making his way to the entrance of the cavern where Link would next go - he wasn't going to interfere, he just... wanted to ensure that Link would be alright. Scaling the rock above it, he found a marginally warmer perch, and waited.

It took a few hours, and Sheik was already shivering by the time Link arrived. He still looked sullen even as he hopped across the ice, dodging the octoroks that had started to emerge with the dying daylight, not taking a second look before heading inside the cavern.

Sheik waited for another minute, then jumped down and followed him in.

It was bitterly cold inside, colder even than the Domain. But Link was moving with a single-mindedness that ignored the cold, taking out any enemies in his path with a swing of his sword. Sheik trailed him, dodging the traps and keeping out of his way, taking out the ice keese that flapped above when he could.

At least, as much as he could when he was shivering that much.

The door to the final chamber closed before Sheik could ever reach it. Frowning, he rested a hand lightly against it, testing its shadow - there was a barrier there, somehow.

Link was own his own. Sheik crouched down in front of the door and waited.

The instant the barrier fell, Sheik slipped in to the Shadow and passed through the door. Link whirled around almost the instant he reappeared, taking a step back from the corpse of the white wolfos he had just defeated. "Sheik," he said softly.

"Link," he nodded in return. "That chest contains one of the two items you will need for the Water Temple. The Zora princess is already there, I managed to rescue her from beneath the ice, but this ice is created by an evil curse and its source is the monster in the Water Temple. She will be in danger without you."

He took a breath, still not meeting Link's eye. "Unless you shut off the source, this ice will never melt.  I will teach you the melody that leads to the temple."

Link didn't say a word, motionless with his hands at his side. He looked... lost, almost. Sheik faltered for a moment.

Then he took a breath and spoke the words he had written several months earlier. "Time passes," he said, "People move... like a river's flow, it never ends. A childish mind will turn to noble ambition..." Like Link, a boy who had become a Hero overnight. "Young love will become deep affection..." Like himself, whose infatuation the moment he had seen him in the Temple of Time growing to something bigger and more frightening. "The clear water's surface reflects growth."

And Link just gazed at him, an expression in his eyes that Sheik couldn't read.

"Now listen to the Serenade of Water to reflect upon yourself," he nearly whispered, drawing out his lyre and playing it carefully - once, twice, enough for Link to learn it.

Link repeated it note-perfectly, giving Sheik a hesitant smile when it was done. "That stuff you said," he murmured, "About a childish mind turning to noble ambition. That's about me, isn't it?"

Sheik nodded silently. There was a Deku nut in his hand, but he didn't let it fall it.

"Good," he nodded, "I doubt I'm a child any more. And what about the bit about young love becoming deep affection?" he asked daringly.

"That..." Sheik started softly, although his expression above the cowl was visibly startled, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Link could hear it. No, Sheik's feelings for him were wrong, how could he stand to ask him that? "We... I mean, you should see what's in the chest."

Link's expression shifted back to the disappointment Sheik had seen so often recently. "Okay."

And still, Sheik didn't drop the Deku nut.

"Iron boots," he could hear Link murmur to Navi. "I guess I can... walk underwater with these. If I don't drown, at least."

"The tunic you will receive from the Zora king will prevent that," Sheik said softly from behind him.

Link spun around, delight flickering across his features for just a moment. "You didn't leave?" he almost beamed, crossing the floor back to him and reaching towards his hands before thinking better of it. His expression softened; Sheik smiled involuntarily at it. "Come with me," he said suddenly, "At least as far as the lake."

And, much to his own surprise, Sheik agreed.

 

They left the Domain together, Link's new Zora tunic bundled up. It was already well in to night by the time they reached the mouth of the river. Sheik, at that point, directed Link to an almost invisibly hidden rock ladder, one leading to an overpass over the cliffs that could lead them straight back to Kakariko.

There, they spent one last night in Impa's house, Sheik waking early to make preparations for the temple. It was a fiendishly difficult one, apparently - Link would possibly have to spend quite a fair bit longer than he normally did on this one.

"Navi," he murmured to the fairy that had bobbed down to inspect his preparations, "Will you be able to make Link's supplies waterproof? There's an area on the top floor where he can keep these, it's just getting there that's the problem."

"No problem!" she squeaked, then, almost mischievously, added, "Do you want me to do the same with yours?"

Sheik flushed. "No," he murmured, "I can find things to eat on the surface. I'll just... wait for him." He gave her an uneasy smile.

Navi bobbed again in imitation of a nod. "Okay," she chirped, waited for Sheik to take a bite of the porridge he was eating at the same time, then said, "So, d'you _like_ Link?"

Sheik nearly choked on his breakfast.

"You did that deliberately," he muttered, then sighed and said, "You know the answer to that."

"No, I never realised," Navi replied dryly (curious, Sheik would not have assumed fairies utilised sarcasm), "But maybe you should tell _him_ that."

Sheik shook his head. "It's not proper," he murmured.

Navi practically sighed, then settled down on his shoulder. "Link doesn't care about proper," she confided, "He just cares about you."

There was honestly no reply Sheik could make to that.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to do so by the sound of creaking from above, then a muffled yawn. "Sheik?" Link called down sleepily, "What's the time?"

"A little after sunrise," he called back up, getting a groan in response.

"Too early," he muttered, a thump signifying that he had just gotten out of bed. Bare feet padded down the stairs, coming up behind Sheik. ( _Too close!_ Sheik's instincts wanted to scream - Link was definitely well inside the acceptable boundaries of personal space.) "What're you doing?"

"Making preparations for the Water Temple," Sheik answered, silently congratulating himself on how even he had kept his voice. "Navi can ensure the water won't get to it on the way in - there's a ledge where you can keep your supplies so they won't get waterlogged."

"Cool," Link said, and grinned. "Thank you."

He simply couldn't deny the brightness of that smile. "You're welcome," he said quietly.

They breakfasted over careful conversation, the tension from the day before still overhanging things. And then Link picked up the pack, hesitated, and set it down again. "I know you taught me that song and everything," he started cautiously, "But it's a nice day. I was thinking of riding to the lake."

He took a breath, then said, "You should ride with me."

For a moment, Sheik stopped and stared. Then, he shrugged. "Alright," he said.

Link looked almost astonished for a moment, then he smiled.

Sheik smiled back, although his heart was hammering in his chest. He hadn't wanted to hurt Link again with another rejection, but only seconds after the fact, he was already regretting it. As they left the village and headed back down to the field, still early enough that they were almost the only two around, he was almost tempted to flee.

Again.

But instead, he simply clambered up on to Epona. Sheik wasn't even remotely used to riding horses - if he had to get somewhere by means other than warping, he vastly preferred his own two feet. Link, by contrast, seemed completely at home on her back, settling in behind him.

"Hold on," Link said lightly, then immediately kicked Epona in to a gallop.

Sheik yelped and immediately grabbed hold of the front of the saddle, knuckles going white.

From behind him, Link laughed, letting go of the reins with one hand to wrap that arm around his middle. "Calm down," he murmured, "I won't let you fall."

Sheik relaxed - fractionally. "I'm not used to riding," he mumbled, clinging to Link's hand, "I've only done it once or twice."

Link nodded - Sheik could feel the movement. "I was pretty unsteady on a horse the first time I rode," he admitted, "Though I'm much more used to it now. Did you know, to get Epona, I actually had to rescue her from the ranch? Ingo had been brainwashed, see, and he had promised her to Ganondorf..."

Sheik let Link talked, lulled by his arm around his waist and the sound of his voice. It was indeed a nice day, clear and warm without being too hot, the sun rising in the sky as they launched towards the lake. Link's body was warm against his, his arm secure and comforting, and by the time they reached the gates and Link murmured, "Hold on tight", he was already in too good a mood to argue.

Of course, it couldn't last. Riding up the path towards the lake, it started raining - a light splattering that became significantly heavier by the time they dismounted. "It's beneath that island," Sheik almost had to shout over the downpour, his usually soft voice almost drowned out.

"Right!" Link called back, taking a moment to gaze across the lake. Then he nodded, settling his things down and promptly stripping off his green tunic and hat.

Sheik blinked and glanced away before he could go too red, watching surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye as the rain immediately soaked the thin white shirt and leggings. He had seen Link without a shirt, why did this feel so different?

"You can look now," Link teased, and Sheik chanced a glance over. He had the new blue tunic on, a faint grin on his face as he rebuckled his belt. "You've seen me before," he shrugged, "When you were looking after me. Why not now?"

"That was different," Sheik muttered, still faintly pink. Even clothed, the blue made Link's eyes vividly bright, his hair sticking damply to his face beneath the cap.

Link nodded, a skeptical expression on his face. "If you say so," he shrugged, glancing around. "Ah," he murmured, "There's an overhanging beneath the roof of the Lakeside Lab. I can hitch Epona up there." And then he reached out, brushing raindrops off Sheik's cheek. "You should get some shelter, too."

Sheik nodded, unable to speak thanks to the simple reason that his heart had suddenly jumped in to his throat. "I will," he murmured.

Link smiled and started to lead Epona over. "Will you go back to the village, now?"

Again, Sheik nodded. It was an utter lie, of course - he wasn't planning on leaving the lake until Link accomplished his task - but better to say that than prove to Link that he was nothing but his somewhat maladjusted stalker. "Good luck in there."

"Thanks," Link said with another brilliant smile, and then hesitated like there were other words on his lips, ones he was about to say before thinking better of it. "...See you in a few days."

And Sheik watched as Link turned around and walked to the next temple.

 

The Water Temple, Sheik was discovering, was taking a very long time. They had arrived at the lake a little before midday, and now it was a little before midnight - four and a half days later.

He waited on the island above the temple's entrance, curled up under the tree with his cloak around him (Link had worked out it had been his a little in to their stay at Impa's house, and had returned it then) to keep the rain out, and continued trying to ignore the tug that seemed to come straight from the temple and up his spine. There was something down there, something steeped in the Shadow, something perhaps dangerous...

Right. If it was dangerous, if it was something to do with the Shadow, he was going to try and get rid of it before it had a chance to get its claws in to Link.

Folding his cloak and setting it deep in the dead tree's roots to keep it (moderately) dry, Sheik moved to the edge of the island, took a breath, and slipped down the side and in to the water. It was so cold his breath was almost stolen away, bitter and icy and unpleasant - nearby, a tektite twitched, drawn by the splash.

No time like the present. Sheik took a breath and ducked downwards towards the entrance, kicking through the cold water, eyes only open enough to see where he was going.

Then there was a square of light opening above him, and he kicked towards it, emerging inside the Water Temple itself.

Inside, it was a labyrinth. Ignoring Link's belongings, set to one side on the entry platform, he focused instead on the sense of Shadow he could feel - stronger, now, and nearby. It was only a short jump across to the platform opposite, and then around to another side and a door opposite - locked, but that was little problem to a Sheikah.

Jumping across and slipping in to the Shadow nigh simultaneously, Sheik found himself in the next room, balanced on a small ledge watching others across a precipice emerge and be sent downwards to a watery grave. He would have to time this perfectly - truly, he had no idea how Link would manage this, Sheikah agility was well beyond that of a Hylian's.

But he made it through to the top, disappearing again through the next locked door. The next room was more straightforward - tektites, switches, and statues, Sheik ignoring most of them in favour of just making his way across his own way. The Like Like in front of the door, he ignored, crouching down nearby - there was definitely thick, dense Shadow on the other side of the wall.

Sheik took a breath, and slipped through the wall.

Immediately, he found himself elsewhere. It was a vast, flat area, mirror-like water beneath his feet - to his astonishment, he saw his feet resting on its surface. Its depth below seemed fathomless.

He could see no walls, obscured as they were by mist. Far away, there was a structure with a door in it; between it and him, an island with a dead tree. And the island was positively steeped in the Shadow.

As he stepped forward, the illusion became more clear. There were walls and a floor, but the illusion covered them almost completely - it was very, very easy for him to believe he was in a vast flat plain with no edges in sight, that bottomless depths laid beneath his feet.

But the being waiting beneath the tree - that was not an illusion.

It was in the shape of a person, dark and watery and half a shadow, half a reflection. Burning red eyes peered up at him almost curiously, and in a movement so fluid it was unnatural, it stood.

There was a sword in his hand.

If it wanted a fight, it would get one. Sheik retrieved his blade from the Shadow, dropping in to a ready stance - the shadow tilted its head, then did the same.

And then the fight was on.

Its movements were jarringly familiar, strong and powerful and aimed at overwhelming his defences. Armed only with what was practically an oversized dagger, Sheik still managed to hold his own, attempting to pin the shadow against the tree, blade against his throat.

And then the shadow's booted foot swept Sheik's from beneath him.

He landed hard, half in the water - eyes widening in shock, he struggled to push himself out of it, to draw breath - but already, the shadow was on him, hands around his throat, pushing his face back below the surface.

Sheik barely resisted the urge to panic outright. Clamping his lips together to prevent any of his remaining air escaping, struggling as much as he could with the shadow's weight pushing him down, he clawed at its hands, tried to pry them away.

He needed to breathe, he couldn't drown down here, he couldn't leave Link - if he died, who would help him? Hyrule could die now because of one unforgivable mistake, one moment of foolish curiosity. All because he wanted to see what was down here!

His lungs were burning. Sheik needed air, and fast.

There was no escape - not aside from slipping in to the Shadow, and that would leave him at the mercy at whatever this shadow creature was. But if he didn't, he would die, as surely as the sun rose in the morning and set at night. He couldn't survive without air, not as long as he still needed to breathe, and even the risks of exposing himself to this creature were probably worth it if it meant not drowning.

Sheik closed his eyes, and drew himself in.

The Shadow was a world overlaid with the true one. While immersed within it, Sheik could hide himself from those who lived in the real world, could move through obstacles that didn't exist in the Shadow, could store his blade and lyre and throwing needles within it. The Shadow boosted his jumps, cushioned his falls, urged him onwards as he ran; it protected and nourished and was a part of him like the world of light never had been.

In its grasp, the innocuous became the unreal - flames became burning beacons of white light, water became icy cold gas - unpleasant but breathable, enough to save Sheik's life as he gulped in deep lungfuls of it past the hands loose enough around his throat to continue breathing.

Inside the Shadow, those who only appeared as dark blurs in the real world took their true form. And the true form of the one with his hands around Sheik's throat was revealed to him the instant Sheik opened his eyes.

Pale hands wrapped in brown leather gauntlets. White sleeves, topped off with a green tunic. A face he had seen nearly every day for the last month, blonde hair, blue eyes with something monstrous behind them - anger and rage and hatred and cruelty, unfamiliar emotions in a face so familiar it made him want to scream.

"No," he practically sobbed, and doubled his efforts to escape. This thing with Link's face, this _thing_ \- it was wrong, wrong beyond measure, and it hadn't moved its hands from around his throat, and it was just _smiling_ at him like that, and, "No!"

The thing with Link's face grinned, freeing one hand and tugging down Sheik's cowl. Sheik tried to bite him as his fingers ran down his face; the thing hit him so hard he saw stars.

"You will not interfere," it said, its voice like Link's with every emotion drained out of it, "The Hero of Time is mine."

"You will not touch him," Sheik growled in return, and the shadow simply laughed. Hands still around Sheik's throat, he drew a leg up, kneeling on Sheik's chest, leaning all of his weight against it. Sheik gave a pained cry as he heard the sickening crunch of breaking ribs.

And then the hands were gone from around his throat, and he looked up just in time for Link's shadow to hold his sword aloft. Sheik froze, eyes wide and glazed with pain, unable to move even if the shadow's knee hadn't left his chest.

And the shadow...

...Stopped.

Sheik didn't. Somehow, he found the strength and agility to wriggle free, to bolt for the door even in the Shadow, slipping through it seconds before it sealed behind Link again. He barely acknowledged the traps, made his way through the rest of the Temple through sheer dumb luck and being too afraid to stop and think about it for very long, plunging back in to the black fog water and emerging both in the lake and back in the world of light.

It was an exhausted, battered, pained, terrified Sheikah that finally made it back up to the island a little past midnight, dragging his cloak over his shivering form, curling around his broken ribs, and letting sleep - or perhaps unconsciousness - take him.

 

It was the sun that woke him, pressing against his eyelids, making him throw up an arm to shield himself from it. The first thing he noticed was that the rain had stopped - wincing at the pain in his chest, he sat up carefully, looking up at clear dawn skies for the first time in days.

And then there was a sound - rushing, low, loud. The murky water was clearing and rising, the lake filling, the pollution and taint from the Shadow Temple washing away. Without second thought, Sheik scrambled to his feet and moved to the edge of the island.

"Link," he whispered, gazing out at its clear surface, "You did it!"

Behind him, blue light caught his attention. Link, descending from the Sacred Realm, returned from where ever the Zora princess had taken him to reward him with the next medallion. He didn't turn around, but he did smile at the sound of Link's feet pounding against the ground as he ran to him.

"Sheik," he grinned, exhausted, battered, soaking wet, and more cheerful than he had any right to be, "Ruto says thanks."

"I see," Sheik smiled, finally turning to look at him. Oh, he was a sight for sore eyes - clothes clinging to his lean body, the blue of his tunic matching the warmth of his eyes, so utterly unlike that mockery of a doppelganger's that he wanted to cry out in relief. "We have to return peace to Hyrule for her sake, too, don't we?" he murmured. "Once again, the lake is filled with pure water. All is as it was here."

Link nodded and stepped in close, inspecting the newly refilled lake. He was smiling and Sheik couldn't look away, couldn't make himself move, couldn't make himself do what was he was supposed to do.

He took a step backwards.

And with reflexes born of battling Hyrule's worse, Link spun around and grabbed his wrist.

Sheik's eyes widened automatically. The expression on Link's face - intermingled disappointment, hope, sadness - both made him want to run far away and to never leave him again.

"Sheik," Link whispered pleadingly, "Please don't do this. Not again."

Sheik could have pulled his wrist free from the grip that had changed to a caress, but somehow, he didn't. He could have left, he _should_ have left, but now he didn't want to - and if the look in Link's eye was any indication, neither did he.

Now, Link was raising his other hand, tugging at the soft cloth that covered Sheik's face. Sheik's breath caught at the wonder on Link's face, gaze softening to something he had never seen before, hiding a shiver as Link's calloused thumb brushed over his cheek. "Sheik," he murmured again.

"Link," Sheik replied, his voice little more than a whisper.

"The rules suck," Link said, then dipped his head and pressed his lips to Sheik's.

He was never quite sure how they ended up from the edge of the island to Sheik being pressed up against the tree, not even caring about his broken ribs - Link was kissing him, and he was kissing him back, and nothing could ruin this moment. Not the bark against his back, not the way his hair caught in his wraps when Link tried to run his fingers through it, not the fact that he really shouldn't have been kissing Link in the first place, but, somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

But one thing did manage to penetrate the haze of pleasure - a message stick, pinpointed directly at him.

 _"Sheik,"_ it told him in Impa's utterly no-nonsense voice, _"You will come to the Kakariko Graveyard immediately."_

Breaking away from Link with a ragged gasp, he squeezed his eyes shut. Not this, he silently pleaded, not now, not when he had finally got what he wanted...

"What's wrong?" Link said immediately, an uncertain expression on his face, "Did I do something wrong?"

Sheik shook his head fiercely. "You did nothing wrong," he said numbly, then choked out, "I have to go."

Link looked like he had been struck. "But... why?" he whispered.

And Sheik felt a bit of his heart break. "I'm sorry," he whispered back, and kissed Link fiercely. "...Kakariko," he murmured against his mouth, then stepped away from him and let a Deku nut fall.

And if he was cursing Impa in his head all the while he ran from Link and played the Nocturne, she would never know.


	8. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, sexual content.

Sheik returned to the Kakariko graveyard in a blur of warp magic.

He knew he looked like a mess - he was pale beneath the tan, in pain from his ribs, his cowl pulled down, hair mussed, generally dishevelled - immediately, he dragged the cowl back up, turning to face the woman now standing at the entrance of the Shadow Temple.

"Impa?" he asked uncertainly, his voice cracking a little. "Why did you bring me here?"

Impa didn't turn to face him immediately, gazing thoughtfully at where the temple's entrance seemed to swallow even the tentative dawn light. "Have you ever been down there, Sheik?" she asked gently.

Slowly, Sheik nodded. "Once," he said softly. Once was enough.

She nodded back, and finally turned to face him. "That is where I must go."

"...Why?" he asked, swallowing hard. The shadows in there - he wouldn't wish them on his worst enemy, let alone the woman that was the closest thing he had to a mother.

Let alone Link. Oh, Thrice, he had to send Link in there.

"But that place..."

"Is the hall of the dead," Impa cut him off gently, "And the domain of the Sage of Shadow."

Perhaps he realised it then. But he shook it off fiercely - no, it wasn't true, it was someone else, some ancient sage like Rauru. Not her - it couldn't be her...

"Are you going to seek an address with the Sage of Shadow, then?" he asked instead.

Impa sighed, crossing the short distance, resting her hand on his cheek. "Sheik," she said, her tone infinitely patient, "You know what this means --"

"No!"

"- This has been a long time coming --"

"No! Impa, this is not fair!"

He was being pitiful, and he knew it. Pleading and begging and blinking back the tears filling his eyes, but Impa was his family and now he was going to lose her forever.

But for once, she didn't rebuke him. She simply pulled him in to a rare embrace, letting him try not to cry against her shoulder, stroking soothing circles against his back like she had always done for Zelda when she was upset. "This is the only way," she murmured, "The Sage of Shadow must be a Sheikah of Hyrule. That leaves only you and I, and better that I be chosen. You are young. You have your entire life ahead of you."

Sheik nodded, feeling numb. "What about Zelda?" he whispered. "She will... she will need someone to look after her."

Impa pressed a hand to the back of his head. "She will," she said gently, "And she will have you. I arranged it with her before I left - when Ganondorf is defeated and Zelda is crowned, you will be designated as her Queensguard."

Sheik drew back, wincing as Impa unknowingly pressed against his ribs. "I am?" he asked uncertainly - the Queensguard, the personal Sheikah guardian of the ruling monarch, one of the most powerful people in the land - Zelda might have been destined to rule as Queen, but he was to be her closest friend, her trusted advisor, her protector.

He took another step back. "I understand," he said quietly.

Everything would change when Ganondorf was defeated. Everything. The girl that was like his little sister would become the ruler of a nation, he would be granted one of the most powerful positions within it, the closest thing he had to a mother would be permanently out of his reach, and Link...

And Link would be returned to his own time, everything they had ever done together eternally out of his reach.

"Everything is going to change," he said softly, a little mournfully. "Isn't it?"

Impa nodded once.

"There's more," she continued, "And this part will require you."

Sheik gazed up at her curiously. "What must I do?" he asked.

"Many years ago," she started, "When I was only a little older than you, a vengeful shadow spirit broke out of the magic that bound it to the Shadow Temple. I was one of those that helped to subdue it, to seal it inside the well."

"Was it a good idea," Sheik interjected carefully, "To seal it inside the village's only drinking supply?"

Impa snorted and ignored the question. "That seal," she continued, "Is about to break."

Oh. That didn't sound good.

"What do you want me to do?" he repeated again, rather hoping that it wasn't ‘seal the shadow spirit again' - he wasn't sure how well he could do that even without broken ribs.

Thankfully, it wasn't. "I am going to go to the depths of the Shadow Temple," Impa told him, "To try and strengthen the seal from there. It was where it was originally bound," she continued, "It has a connection to the spirit even in the well."

Sheik nodded. "And my role?" he said again.

Impa smiled grimly. "You will go to the well and ensure that the beast does not escape prematurely."

...Lovely. That made his day so much better. "If that is your wish," he murmured, "Then I will attempt to fulfil it."

She nodded once, then pressed her hands to his cheeks and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Good luck," she murmured, "And good bye."

Sheik couldn't find the words to speak, not to say what he wanted to say. Instead, he simply watched her turn around and set foot inside the Shadow Temple.

And then she turned around again. "And Sheik," she added, "Go and rest for a little while. You look terrible."

And then she was gone.

Sheik lingered there for a long time, sitting on the warp pad, lost in his own thoughts. Then he got to his feet and started to work his way through the graveyard, taking special note to avoid disturbing the Poes.

Perhaps it was risky to return to Kakariko in plain view, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Dropping to his knees in front of the well, he splayed his hands against it, testing the seal, seeing how long they would still have.

Oh. Impa had better work fast, in that case.

He had knelt there for perhaps an hour before scrambling back fast - just in time, the seal coming crashing down. Sparks flew from the well, some catching the dry material of the roofs, sending them in to flame. Sheik stood before it, hands curled in to fists, heedless of the flames around him and the sudden panic of the villagers, and waited.

And then he could hear familiar booted footsteps behind him against grass and the stone of the steps, and a gasp of surprise.

"Get back, Link!" Sheik ordered without ever turning around.

And then the wooden beams above the well flew over their heads. Both ducked on instinct, but still, Sheik didn't look away, not even from the sudden rain.

It was coming.

And then it was there, seizing Sheik, tossing him through the air like a rag doll, hurling him down the stairs.

Sheik landed hard, crying out as pain shot through his entire body. His left shoulder had been forced out of its socket, his already broken ribs forced inwards - already, breathing was beginning to become a struggle.

Ignoring the monster, Link ran back to his side, setting a gentle hand against his back. But the shadow spirit was not so easily dissuaded - it was moving around again, racing back towards the two of them - to Sheik, crippled with pain; to Link, grimly determined with his shield out and sword ready.

"No," Sheik whispered, and reached out to Link.

But the monster caught him anyway.

 

He woke up to the feel of rain against his cheeks, cool and steady against his fevered skin. Blinking painfully, he managed to push himself up with one arm, grimacing at the nauseating pain in the other. Breathing shallowly to keep his lungs from hurting too much, he inched over to Link - only unconscious, thankfully, no worse.

"Link," he whispered, "Link?"

And almost as if in response to his quiet plea, Link stirred.

"Sheik?" he murmured, sitting up carefully then immediately pulling the Sheikah over for a kiss. "Oh, thank the Three you're alright."

That was debatable, quite frankly, but Sheik still smiled weakly. "Link, a terrible thing has happened," he told him, voice barely a whisper, "The shadow spirit has been released. Impa sealed it, but..."

And he stopped, giving a pained cough that was flecked with red. Link immediately sat up more properly. "You're hurt," he said, almost accusingly.

Sheik shook his head stubbornly. "Impa went to the Shadow Temple to seal it again," he continued, cringing at the pain that was beginning to overtake him in waves, "But she will be in danger without any help. She is... one of the six sages, you must help her!"

"No," Link said immediately, and did something Sheik was not expecting - he scooped him up in to his arms. "Impa can take care of herself. You need help _now_."

"No," Sheik protested weakly, "Impa, you have to save her, you..." But it hurt too much to speak, almost too much to breathe.

Link tightened his grip on his clothes. "Hold on," he murmured, and started to move.

And the world faded out of view for Sheik.

 

There was the distant impression of rain, Link's arms secure around him, dust and dirt. And then a drop and a jolt, and then nothing again.

 

And then there was... the distinct impression of light, something soothing and restful against his tired body. Was Link laying him to rest? He was lying half in Link's lap, feeling his hands brush his hair out of his face then a gentle kiss to his forehead, the sound of water and movement around him.

Here, he could rest.

 

"...Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe."

 

Sheik's return to lucidity also marked a distinct lack of pain. He made an almost content sound, positioned as he was in Link's arms - lying back, resting against the Hero's chest, an ungauntleted hand stroking his hair.

"Hey," Link murmured, and Sheik glanced up to see a smile on his face. "You scared me, earlier. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sheik murmured, then shifted and gasped in pain again, grabbing at his shoulder. "...But not completely better."

Link was already frowning, running gentle hands over his shoulder. "Dislocated," he murmured, pressing another kiss to Sheik's forehead. "I can set it - I've set my own shoulder before - but it's going to hurt like hell."

"It already does," he muttered - it had been find until he had moved. And then he looked up, blinking at his surroundings - ankle-deep water, oddly pearlescent with a milky white sheen to it, set in a pool surrounded by blue-white pillars. There were little pink fairies, the sort he had seen in the Lost Woods and Kokiri Forest, absolutely everywhere. "Is this a Fairy Fountain?" he asked, wonder in his tone.

"Mm-hmm," Link murmured, distracted by inspecting his shoulder. "I think the fairies tried healing it, but they just... left it there. When you moved, it jarred again." He took a breath, then said, "Do you want me to push it back?"

Sheik grimaced, but still nodded.

"Okay," Link nodded, "Lean up against me - support yourself. Bite down on that face mask thing you wear - it should help. I have to get the right angle."

Nodding again, a little pale simply at the prospect, Sheik positioned himself and squeezed his eyes shut.

"On three," Link murmured, taking Sheik's upper arm in one hand and his shoulder with the other. "One --"

And he snapped the bone back in to place.

Sheik yelled despite himself, fingers curling in to Link's tunic. Almost immediately, Link had wrapped both arms around him, pulling him practically in to his lap, comforting as best he could. But it was almost unnecessary - aside from that first jag of pain, it was already feeling better and better, aided by the fairy that had dropped down to inspect them.

"Thank you," he murmured against his chest.

Link's only response was to kiss the top of his head. "I should check," he murmured after a moment, "That everything's, well. Alright." And he started with the wraps around Sheik's hair, running a hand through it as he did.

He really needed to cut it, Sheik thought idly. It was brushing his shoulders when loose, already.

But that was irrelevant, now. He was already unwrapping the bandages around his fingers, and then around his wrists, sliding the hinged arm guards out as he did so. Those and the bandages, he tossed out of the pool where it clattered against the tile - there was a stretch of empty space there, and he noted without curiosity that Link's sword and shield, boots, belt, and gauntlets were already there. Hmm - he had noticed the absent of his belt and sword belt when he had been leaning up against him.

Link finished unwrapping the bandages around his torso, and immediately, Sheik breathed a little easier - they were fine, normally, but after recovering from broken ribs, they had been a hindrance.

His boots slipped off easily, lobbed in the same direction as the bandages and wrist guards, and as cool water swirled around his feet, Sheik suddenly realised where he was.

Utterly isolated, undressing and being undressed by the one he loved.

Link seemed to realise it at roughly the same time, because he gulped hard. "That... wrap thing," he murmured, playing with the ends of his tabard, "Can I...? I want to see your face..."

Sheik nodded silently, his eyes slipping shut as Link lifted it over his head.

And now he was simply gazing at Sheik, an almost stunned expression on his face. "Sheik," he murmured, and lifted a hand to run it down his cheek. "I really, really want to kiss you right now."

 _Screw the rules_ , Sheik decided. "You don't have to ask me permission," he murmured, and leaned up to kiss Link instead.

Now, instead of the simply overwhelming concept of kissing Link in the first place, instead of the pain of his broken ribs distracting him or the urgency after Link had returned to consciousness, Sheik was more able to focus on the sensations themselves. It was gentle at first, soft pressure against his lips, Link's hand tangling through his loose hair. Now, it was just... good.

And then he set his hand down in water, and suddenly it was different water he was in, and suddenly it wasn't quite so fun.

Link was staring at him, most likely wondering why he had broken away so quickly. Sheik fought to shift his expression to something more calm, less panicked - "The dry parts," he murmured, "Let's get out of the water."

Still staring a little, Link nodded nonetheless, helping Sheik to his feet and leading him over to the expanse of tiles fringing the fountain. And then he was frowning, running a hand over the cool tile. "Wait there," he said suddenly, "I'll be back in five minutes. No, less." And shoving his boots on and grabbing his sword, he dashed out.

And Sheik was left there, vaguely stunned at the change in events.

Out of the thicket of fairies, Navi detached herself, settling herself on his knee. "Link really likes you, you know!" she chirped, and Sheik chuckled.

"Yes, I sort of got the idea when he kissed me," he teased, and Navi gave a giggle that sounded like a bell.

"I mean, really," she said earnestly, rising from his knee and doing a little loop. "I talked to him loads when we were in that temple, ‘cause we were in there for days - I didn't tell him you liked him, but I asked him if he liked you and he said he did but thought you didn't like him and I had to tell him that the Sheikah were really dutiful and stuff so even if you wanted to you might have needed a little nudging so he decided to kiss you when he got out of the temple, in fact, he actually said that, he said, ‘Navi, if I ever get out of this place, I'm going to kiss Sheik when I see him again' and I told him that was a really good idea and then he did and I'm so pleased you worked things out!"

Sheik stared a little. He wasn't sure that Navi had stopped to breathe at any point during that. ...As a matter of fact, he wasn't entirely sure fairies did breathe.

He was saved by having to reply from Link's return - a cheerful, "I'm back!" and an armful of blankets dropped practically in his lap. Immediately, Link set to work - two of them he laid down on the floor as an impromptu mattress, the third set to one side.

"These are from Impa's house," Sheik murmured.

Link grinned. "Uh huh," he said, and promptly nudged Sheik back on to them. "Much more comfortable, huh?"

Sheik couldn't help but smile. "Much." But really, he was somewhat more focused on the fact that Link was kissing him to pay much attention to the new surroundings.

It was... intensifying. Sheik could feel familiar tension building - carefully, he moved his hips from Link's, not wanting him to get any wrong ideas. But Link, it seemed, was already having those wrong ideas, because he paused, squeezed Sheik's hip gently, and murmured, "I want to. With you, I mean, no one else. And only if you do as well. So..." And he glanced up, meeting Sheik's gaze, his blue eyes earnest. "Do you want to?"

Sheik glanced away. "We only kissed for the first time this morning," he murmured, then took a breath, closed his eyes, and pulled Link over for a kiss. "Yes," he whispered against his mouth, "I want to."

Link's smile could have lit up the sun.

"Okay," he whispered, and reached for the hem of Sheik's shirt.

Sheik allowed him to slide it over his head, to press him down against the blankets, to rest a gentle hand against his skin. Of course, he was quite distracted himself - Link was a potent distraction, as was tugging the green hat off and dropping it on the pile of their belongings. The tunic was next, the form-fitting undershirt following that - Sheik trailed his fingers over Link's upper body, pressing a tender kiss against the burn scars that had not gone away.

And then Link pulled back, gazing down at him like he was an appetising morsel to be devoured. "You're beautiful," he murmured, trailing the calloused tips of his fingers down from throat to waistband. "You're like no one I've ever seen before."

And then, only a little hesitantly, he slid that hand lower to stroke him through the fabric.

Sheik squeezed his eyes shut, a low whimper catching in his throat. Link was the first one to touch him other than, well, himself, and it felt... almost better than he had anticipated. Link's hand was steady, measured - in fact, it was perhaps a little too measured.

Blinking up, Sheik propped himself up on his elbows, catching Link's hand (even if it just about killed him). "Wait," he started hesitantly, "How do you know what... what you're doing?"

Link sat back up, a distinctly sheepish expression on his face. "I read it in a book?"

"In a book."

"Y-yeah."

Sheik stared a little more. "I'm not sure I want to ask where," he muttered.

"Impa's house," Link answered immediately, either ignoring or not noticing Sheik's dismay. "When you kept leaving - I was bored, and I found this thin book between some of the bigger ones, and it had these two men in it, and..." His face was going slightly pink. "Well, they got, uh, close, and it went in to, um, detail, and I was sort of... picturing it as us, and..."

Sheik wasn't sure what to be flustered over first - the fact that Link's entire sex education had come out of a paperback, or the fact that he had pictured the two of them in the staring roles, or simply the fact that the woman he had considered to be a mother had books containing soft-core same-sex erotica.

"You," he started hesitantly, "I..." And he laughed a little. "Alright then," he half-smiled, "Lead the way. I've, um, never done this either."

"I'll be gentle," Link said with a hesitant smile, and reached for the laces of Sheik's pants. "Do you trust me?"

And Sheik closed his eyes, and said, "Yes."

The Hero's smile spread even as he pressed his lips to Sheik's again, and Sheik parted his lips almost automatically to give him access - then gasped against his mouth as Link's hand, unseen, managed to unfasten his pants. And if contact with a layer of clothing had felt amazing, contact without was enough to have Sheik moaning aloud, biting down on his lip to stop from crying out.

He could feel Link smile against his lips even as he stopped to work the tight blue fabric down Sheik's hips, breaking the kiss to strip him of the last of his garments. Sheik felt himself flushing - Link was staring blatantly, reaching out to run the tips of his fingers from Sheik's cheek, down his throat, and southwards along the length of his torso, stopping short somewhere in the vicinity of his navel. "You're beautiful," he repeated hoarsely, the same actions and words as earlier but the intensity behind them so much more potent now.

"So are you," Sheik murmured, and sat up properly. Every inch of skin was sensitised, so aware of the heat of Link's skin, the slight scratch of the blankets, the dampness of the air, that it was driving him a little insane. Leaning forward for another kiss, he sat back to simply look as well - the well-defined muscles of Link's arms and upper body and stomach, the burn scars that still marred his otherwise clear skin as they crossed his left shoulder and upper arm, the faint trail of pale fuzz that extended from his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his white pants. The fact that those pants were doing nothing to show precisely how much Link was affected by this. "Will you let me see you?"

Link nodded silently, dropping his head as he undid the ties. He paused, taking a breath, then slid them down. Sheik's gaze, almost of its own bidding, slid downwards as well, feeling tight heat at the pit of his stomach growing at the sight of Link fully revealed to him like this.

Then he looked up again, and the heat in his eyes was almost enough to make Sheik want to jump him there and then. "Lie down," he murmured, and, so eager it was near indecent, Sheik did so. He kept his gaze fixed on Link as he sat back, studying Sheik like he was trying to decide which part to consume first - then the same bright smile that had first caught Sheik's attention crossed his face.

"Ready for this?" he asked quietly. Sheik nodded almost hastily.

So Link reached out, almost hesitant now, like he was afraid he would break the Sheikah if he moved too quickly. Carefully, he ran his thumb along the line of Sheik's hip bone; slowly, he stroked the soft skin of his inner thigh. Sheik sucked in a breath and caught his hand, drawing it up to his lips to kiss it.

"I won't break," he murmured. "Link - please..."

Link nodded, then leaned over for a kiss, one hand still resting lightly against his hip. Then, with a gentle nip against Sheik's bottom lip, he started heading downwards - kissing a trail down his jaw, nipping across his throat, pausing at one collarbone to suck a red mark in to existence there.

And he went still further. Beneath Link's hands and mouth, Sheik was in a daze, caught up in a haze of pleasure more potent than any he had experienced before. The idea of what he and Link would do would not release him, mind producing images of what it would be like before it ever happened, body responding entirely to Link's actions. This felt right. This felt _perfect_.

Through the haze, he noted suddenly that Link had paused, a brief expression of puzzlement on his face. Then, it switched to resolve, a faint mischievous grin crossing his face when he noticed Sheik staring - and his head lowered again.

This time, Sheik did cry out - only understandable, the rapidly diminishing detached part of his brain protested. How could one not react with something like this - the Hero of Time himself, crouched between his spread thighs, running his tongue along the length of Sheik's arousal like it was a particularly tasty morsel.

One of Sheik's hands gripped the blankets like it was a lifeline; the other reached out, trailing his fingers through strawberry blonde hair as Link performed ministrations on him that he had previously never imagined. Link chuckled, and the vibrations sent a shock of pleasure up his spine - raising his head (and drawing a whimper that Sheik would be embarrassed about if he wasn't so turned on), Link watched his reaction curiously, then lowered his head again, wrapped his lips against the tip of Sheik's length, and hummed.

This time, Sheik swore in Sheikah, a few words that would make Impa clip his ear had she been around to hear them. But, quite frankly, she was the furthest thing from his mind right now - his entire world had shrunk to just himself and Link. Never mind Ganondorf and Impa and Zelda and the quest, never mind that Navi was probably watching and giggling to herself, never mind the less-than-soft blankets over hard tile, never mind the fact that he had barely had the chance to kiss Link before taking this step. This was a private world of two, and he had no intention of leaving it any time soon.

"Link, _Thrice_ ," he whimpered, curling his hand involuntarily in Link's hair. "Please... you... nngh." It was not easy to think with Link taking these actions, the movements of his mouth and the hand that had join in the fun, the expression on his face - like this was his most challenging puzzle yet but one he was still determined to solve. Nothing had ever made him feel so utterly naked than Link's gaze did at that moment.

All too soon, it ended, and another groan escaped Sheik's lips as it did. Swiftly, Link covered them with his own; when he opened his mouth, he tasted himself in Link's.

"The next part," Link started, a little on the breathless side as he drew back, "Is... well, it's supposed to... be a bit uncomfortable, at first." Pausing to take a deep breath, he continued, "...If you don't want to, that's... that's okay, because, I mean, who really wants to do anything that might hurt, but I promise to take it slow and mmph."

Link stopped then. He didn't have a lot of choice in the matter, either - Sheik had just kissed him. "I told you I wanted to," he murmured as he broke the kiss, "And I trust you."

And he did. It didn't matter if it hurt, because all Sheik wanted now was this closeness with his Hero. And this - what he knew was still to come - promised to offer precisely that.

Taking another breath, Link nodded, reaching for his belongings. Rummaging amongst them (how did he manage to carry all of that, come to think of it? Sheik could never work that out), he finally surfaced with a small bottle in hand - practically a vial, mostly filled with a clear liquid that sloshed heavily. "Oil for my sword," he murmured as he returned to Sheik's side.

Sheik resisted the urge to smile - barely. Link, to his credit, did manage to keep a straight face before giving in to a laugh - the minor tension broken, he carefully uncorked it, setting to one side.

"If it hurts," he told Sheik, nuzzling against him again, "Tell me, and I'll stop until it stops hurting. If it's too fast, tell me, and I'll slow down. Is that okay?"

It really was going to happen, wasn't it? His first time - with the Hero of Time, the one chosen by the goddesses to become living legend, the one whom through destiny and history would rewrite itself.

No, he decided. Not with a legend - just with Link, his friend and soon-to-be lover.

"That's okay," he whispered back, punctuating it with another kiss. "I'm ready."

Link nodded, guiding Sheik on to his back. "Okay then," he murmured to himself, and reached for the oil, drizzling it over his fingers. "Um... here goes."

As far as romance went, the words weren't exactly what Sheik had in mind. But still, the pulse of heat and pressure that shot up his spine as Link slid one finger inside him was enough to distract him from that. It didn't hurt, simply felt strange, a pressure where he wasn't accustomed to any. But Link still looked anxious, so Sheik gave him a reassuring nod, a murmured, "Go on."

The second finger did sting a little as his muscles stretched. But Link was slow and careful and meticulous about using sufficient oil, stopping whenever the slightest hint of pain or discomfort crossed Sheik's face. And soon enough, the pain and discomfort was gone, just the alien-but-growing-familiar feeling of Link's fingers and the expression of gentle patience on his face to replace it.

"Ready?" he whispered, pulling his fingers free to anoint himself with the oil.

Sheik nodded once.

Link returned the nod, then reached out to run his hands across the soft skin of Sheik's thighs, elevating his hips enough so they'd both be comfortable. He positioned himself, and --

And, oh Thrice, that was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Sheik's eyes squeezed shut, next exhalation coming out as a shuddering sob, Link's fingers never preparing for how intense, how overwhelming, how _good_ this new action was. Link halted his movements, a concerned hand brushing his bangs out of his face; Sheik caught it like it was a lifeline.

"Go on," he whispered shakily as he began to adjust, and Link nodded. He was definitely not unaffected by this, Sheik noted through bleary eyes - the Hero was flushed, hair in disarray (aided, no doubt, by Sheik's hand running through it earlier) and eyes half-glazed in pleasure; he looked utterly undone, and, to Sheik's eyes, utterly beautiful.

But still, it was hard to focus on that - not with Link sheathing himself in Sheik's body. Sheik let out a quiet moan as Link came to a stop, dragging him down for more kisses as he let his body adjust to the intrusion. The feeling of their bodies joined thus - it was indescribable.

"Link, I... okay. Go on," he murmured for the third time, voice unsteady, breathing hitched and shuddering. And again, Link nodded, nuzzling against his throat as he reached for Sheik's hips and started to move.

It was unlike anything he had experienced before. Each thrust of Link's hips sent heat and pleasure pulsing up his spine, making words falter in his throat to be replaced with soft cries and moans of pleasure, all other thoughts skittering away as they were deemed unnecessary. All he could focus on was Link - his blue eyes, his strong hands, what he was doing to Sheik's body, a tunnel vision that would have bordered on the disconcerting if it wasn't so thrice-damned _good_.

"I think I knew... the moment I woke up," Link was saying between thrusts, propping Sheik's ankles up on his shoulders and grinning fondly at the gasp of pleasure the change in angle brought. "Wanted to... be near you... after the Fire Temple, I started _seeing_ you..."

He lowered his head for a kiss, and murmured against his lips: "I found that book... pictured me and you, wanted you... wanted to see you like this for weeks..." He reached out to stroke the soft skin above Sheik's hip bones, moving to pepper kisses along the lengths of his collar bones. "You are so thrice-damned beautiful."

Sheik closed his eyes and tugged him close, silencing Link's words and silently thanking his flexibility for allowing them to maintain this position. He could barely think with the pleasure increasing and intensifying throughout his body, the pulses of heat up his spine were beginning to pool and grow at the base, spreading throughout every inch of his body. Every nerve anticipated this moment.

"Link," he whispered, and kissed him fiercely again. "Soon as I saw you... knew... wanted you..." Perhaps he hadn't been able to verbalise it, then. But some instinct had been drawn to Link from the start, their current actions perhaps an inevitability, something meant to happen from the very outset.

Even if it wasn't, he was still very glad it had happened.

The world was starting to go out of focus, pleasure making his vision pulse and little gasps and moans spilling through his lips with very little input from himself. "Link," he found himself moaning, "Link... Link, close now, Link..." It was practically a choked sob. "Link!"

And Link leaned in to him, his own movements becoming erratic. "Go on," he whispered against his skin, and kissed him hard enough to make Sheik see stars - or perhaps that was white-hot heat pooling at the base of his spine and between his legs and the world going away for a bit as he screamed his release against Link's mouth.

The next thing he was aware of was of Link kissing him, gentle nuzzles and caresses against his heated skin. There was a slight ache in his legs from the positions he had held them in, a sense of distinct stickiness on and inside him (and that in itself was strange), he knew his shoulders would hurt later on from the tile floor - but at that moment, he simply didn't care. Things were too close to perfect for him to care.

"That was," he started, and stopped. No words could describe what had just transpired, and so he simply continued with, "That was indescribable."

Link grinned - the one he had become so familiar with over the past weeks, the one that signified that he was feeling really quite pleased with himself. "Yeah, it was," he murmured, and kissed Sheik again, pulling away but immediately curling in to his side. "Glad I read that book, huh?"

Sheik chuckled despite himself. "Indeed. It seems your education was adequate enough, then."

"Ha! Next time you scream my name in the heat of passion, see if you still think it's only 'adequate'."

This was comfortable - banter between friends and lovers, both curled up next to each other and minutes later, when the stickiness got to be a little too much until they retreated to the fountain proper to wash. It was probably sacrilegious, Sheik decided, cleaning the evidence of their coupling in a fairy fountain, but quite frankly, he didn't care at that point.

And then they returned to the blankets, Link dragging the third one he had brought over them both so they could curl up together. "When was the last time you slept?" Sheik found himself murmuring as he ran a hand down the side of Link's face, brushing his thumb carefully beneath one shadowed eye.

"Are we counting being knocked unconscious for two hours in the Water Temple?" Link asked sheepishly.

Sheik frowned. "No."

"Then... before the Water Temple, I guess."

Sighing, Sheik simply shook his head and looped an arm around his waist. "The Shadow Temple can wait," he told him gently, "Get some sleep. I promise I will be here when you wake up."

Link gazed at him for a moment, then a smile crossed his face. "Glad to hear it," he murmured, and was out within minutes.

Sheik simply watched him sleep for a little while, a small, content smile on his face. With Link, nothing else mattered. With Link, he was safe.

And with that in mind, Link's arms a more reassuring blanket than the actual blankets he had found, he drifted off to sleep as well.

 

They woke a little later on, tangled in each other's arms, Sheik somehow managing to find his head tucked under Link's chin. Link was already awake, he realised when he drew back a little, gazing at him with sleepy eyes.

"Rest well?" he asked gently, voice a little hoarse.

Sheik simply nodded, pressing another kiss to his lips. "Mm," he murmured, "Best sleep in ages."

Still - they couldn't stay, and both knew it. Sheik taught Link the nocturne while leaning back against his body, one of Link's hands running distractingly down his torso, making him squirm a little as he reached ticklish spots. It might have taken a little longer, then, to teach him the song - all it required was for Link to remember the terror he had felt when he had seen Sheik thrown by that thing, and then he could know the terror that the Shadow Temple demanded. ("Not true," Link had protested, "Nothing could ever scare me as much as that.")

They dressed slowly, pausing to sneak little kisses or caresses against bare skin, making brief and easy conversation. It was comfortable, now, restful and gentle. Sheik would have happily stayed that way forever.

But it was not to be. Leaving the blankets where they were (Link would pick them up on his way back out - if the temple was as bad as Sheik claimed, he'd need to visit the fountain afterwards anyway, he reasoned), hand in hand, they left the fountain.

The remains of a crypt, Sheik noted idly, clinging to Link's hand as they were lifted out to... "The graveyard?" he asked in surprise, "We just... I mean... in a _graveyard_?"

"Technically, in a fairy fountain," Link grinned, and led Sheik by hand to the grilling that separated the Temple's entrance from the rest of the graveyard. "Well," he said, a little more uncertainly, "Wish me luck."

Sheik did so. With his mouth.

Grinning dazedly at the force of the kiss, Link raised the ocarina and played the notes. A short swirl of magic - he wasn't going far, just up to the platform that sat a little way above them.

For a moment, he wavered there, glancing down at Sheik. And before he could leave, Sheik choked out, "Link!"

Link crouched, thrusting his fingers through the bottom of the grilling, and Sheik reached up to brush against them. All he could do, now - he could not enter that temple with Link.

He took a breath, then said, "...Be careful."

"I will," Link smiled, squeezed his fingers the best he could, and disappeared in to the darkness.

And Sheik stood there, the words he hadn't been able to say running through his mind. _Don't fall for its traps,_ he had wanted to say, _Return safely. I'll miss you. I'll wait for you._

_I love you._

For just a moment, he gazed up at the temple, a sick feeling of dread curdling in his stomach. Then, he turned to return to the town.

It was a little before sunset, already - when the beast had emerged, it had only been a few hours after sunrise. Had he and Link really slept that long? Immediately, he regretted it (despite the fact that he was now feeling distinctly refreshed).

It was his fault it had got out, his fault people's houses had burned... the fires were doused now, yes, quenched by the rain that still fell, but he should have helped.

"Excuse me," he murmured, catching the eye of the nearest villager - they were pulling things out of the wrecked houses, moving them to others to keep them sheltered from the rain, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The man glanced at him, narrowed his eyes, then turned away.

Sheik frowned, then moved to help a young woman move a crate too large for her to move on her own. She gave him an almost frightened look, glancing away, seemingly trying to tell him something - "What is it?" he murmured.

"Go!" she hissed, glancing around again as if terrified, then tugging the crate out of his grasp and hobbling awkwardly away. Sheik gazed after her for a moment, bewildered.

That was... unusual.

But less than a minute later, he realised what she had been trying to do. She had been trying to warn him.

Lizalfos, Dinolfos, Stalfos. Ganondorf's foot soldiers, all armed and deadly, emerging on all sides and homing in straight on him. Sheik swore in Sheikah and immediately leapt up to the nearest roof, springing over it lightly, ending up halfway up the Kakariko watch tower before they could ever approach it.

None had bows. They couldn't reach him up there.

One snarled unintelligibly, then turned and barked an order to the rest. And then the rest moved in, grabbing the villagers - men, women, the elderly, the infirm. The children. One particularly large Lizalfos curled its claws in to a little girl's shoulders and called out over her sobs - "You will come to ussss, Shhhheikah."

"And if I don't?" Sheik called out boldly.

"Then the ssssmall one diessss," it said, and hissed.

Her mother gave a cry of fear, trying to dart towards her daughter but dragged backwards by a Stalfos.

Sheik froze, horrified. He couldn't simply turn himself in - more than his own life was at stake. But he absolutely could not let a child die simply because he was a coward... "How did you know I was here?" he called, stalling for time.

"Your comradesssss alerted ussss of a rogue Shhhheikah," it hissed again. Below, one man glanced away, shame written on his face. "He issss a good man. He will be rewarded."

Now, the man simply looked ill. And the worst part was, Sheik couldn't even blame him - he was, according to Ganondorf's propaganda, dangerous, and a Sheikah besides. He could not rely on a Hylian - aside from Link or Zelda, and they were different - to risk their lives for someone like him.

"You have twenty seconds," one of the Stalfos said in a voice like ancient wind, "And then we start the blossoming of blood."

Then he wouldn't have enough time. Sheik closed his eyes for a moment, said a quick prayer to the Three, and drew out a message stick. This one was keyed to Zelda - it would send her an instantaneous message, an alert.

He twisted the metal, broke the wood, and closed his eyes. _"I must leave,"_ he told her, _"I'm sorry. You will have to go to the desert."_ And then the quick impression of the Requiem of Spirit, and a final farewell - _"I love you, little sister. Take care."_

And then he curled his hand around the pendant around his neck and slipped it in to the Shadow for safe keeping, and jumped down, walking towards the group of Ganondorf's soldiers like someone walking to their execution. The morbid thought that perhaps he was popped in to his head.

"Good," hissed the Lizalfos, releasing the girl. With a cry, she flung herself at her newly released mother - in fact, all of the hostages were being released. That was good, then - it meant no innocents would be caught up in this.

Quickly, carelessly, his hands were bound behind his back with rough rope. Rope was no problem, then, that would be easy enough. Now he just needed to ensure that no more villagers were still being held, that the entire group was to escort him onwards...

Ahh, good. They were. That made things easier, then.

It was as soon as they had reached the bottom of the stairs leading to Hyrule Field. Earlier, the area was too contained; here were cliff tops, a nearby river, caves, and wide open spaces to disappear in to.

So as soon as he was a few steps away from the stairs, he half-closed his eyes, focused, and dragged his hands in to the shadow and back - and the rope slipped free.

And then he was diving for the closest gap he could see - narrow, but he was smaller and faster than the lumbering hulking beasts that made up the Lizalfos and Dinolfos, a second away from slipping on to the Shadow before a Stalfos shield struck him so hard he saw stars.

And then he was simply fighting for his life and his freedom, unable to escape with so many attacks from all sides, simply unable to wrest away the concentration required to slip into the Shadows. A deflected shield here, a duck below a sword there, but missing the Lizalfos that grabbed one ankle and hauled him to the ground...

And when the world diminished to a confusing blur of claws and steel and fury, the blackness that took him was almost a relief.


	9. The Road Is Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, torture, coarse language, implied rape, squicky eye injuries.

Sheik awoke with a start.

For a moment, he was utterly motionless - still curled up on the hard wooden pallet, the only item of furniture in the room (a stone cell, only a metal doorway with a grill set in it breaking the monotony, small enough that the pallet that made up his bed extended the entire width of the room), taking stock of his condition. He felt bruised, at an absolute minimum, the back of his head where they had struck him leaving his fingers slightly sticky with congealed blood when he took his hand from there.

He had been stripped of his belongings and clothing, left only with a worn pair of grey trousers. Prisoner garb - nondescript, uncomfortable, not his own.

Well, most prisons weren't built to hold Sheikah. Getting to his feet, wincing a little as his battered muscles stretched, he moved to one of the stone walls, pressing his hands against it as he sank in to the Shadow.

Or, at least, he tried. The world shifted, yes - momentarily darkening, becoming more of the muted tones of the Shadow world - but he remained rather stubbornly in the real one.

Well. That wasn't good.

Abruptly, there was the click of a lock; crouching, muscles coiled, Sheik sprang for the entrance the instant the door opened, ducking around whoever held the key. Unfortunately, he was not prepared for the second man there, the one he ran straight in to in his bid to get away.

The man laughed, grabbing his left arm and twisting it behind his back - Sheik gasped in agony as his previously-dislocated shoulder was almost pulled out of its socket again. "Well, well," a silken voice purred in his ear, "We have ourselves a wriggly one, do we?"

Eyes watering from the pain, Sheik couldn't move, not even to pull away from the heavy shackles being set around his wrists. The angle jarred his shoulder tremendously; when his captor shoved at him, he had no choice but to stumble heavily.

"My Lord wishes to see you, Blood Eye," he said bluntly, and the tip of something sharp landed between his shoulder blades. Seething at the slur, Sheik flinched away from it.

His captor laughed and grabbed his hair, dragging him back so that the blade pierced skin. A bead of blood ran down his spine. "Start walking, pretty," his captor almost snarled, "Or I'll ensure that lovely red blood manages to run free."

He had no choice. The blade still horribly evident between his shoulder blades, his arms shackled behind his back and his left shoulder throbbing in time to the rapid pounding of his heart, Sheik began to walk.

 

It wasn't that late, Sheik noted idly as they ascended the stairs out of the dungeon; the heavily barred windows showed the moon barely clearing the tops of the cliff faces that surrounded the castle. Only a few hours after sunset, then - unless he had been out for a day or more, it had only been hours since he had last seen Link.

Link... he truly wasn't sure who was worse off. Himself, a prisoner of Ganondorf, or Link, having to fight his way through the Shadow Temple. With every part of his soul, he wished he could protect Link from that place, to go in his stead even if it meant falling victim to the shadows there. If he could prevent that for someone he loved...

And he had never even got to tell him. That hurt most of all.

Sheik was silent for the entire journey - from the bowels of the castle all the way to the throne room at the top of the tower. Long minutes ticked by silently, the only sounds being footsteps, the sound of breathing, the occasional wet-sounding snarl from an observing Lizalfos.

And then a new sound - the sound of an organ, a mournful dirge that accompanied the rising fear in his heart. All too soon, they reached the top of the stairs, the door opening.

His captor gave him a rough little shove, making him stumble as he entered - inside, the chamber seemed to be filled entirely with the presence of just one man, the self-appointed King of Evil, the Chosen of Din, the ruler of Hyrule. With sick terror, Sheik was pushed to his knees on the hard stone paving and stayed there.

The music stopped, and Ganondorf himself rose from the organ's bench. Sheik held his breath, eyes down, simply staring as the huge feet came closer and closer. He wanted to run, but he couldn't even stand with his arms tied behind him and the sword still at his back.

"Stand down, Captain," Ganondorf said, his tone almost bored, "The Sheikah will find no escape here."

His captor, the Captain, stepped back. Sheik breathed no sigh of relief as the sword was removed from his back - nothing had improved, things had become substantially worse. Now, he was face to face with Ganondorf and Ganondorf alone.

A blade slid in to his field of view - wide and curved, a Gerudo's scimitar. But it wasn't intended to cut him - instead, Ganondorf simply used it to raise his chin, to force eye contact.

Stubbornly, Sheik glanced away, to one side.

Ganondorf actually laughed. "Ah, the Sheikah," he mused, "Such defiant creatures. You know, your people used to end their lives when captured, rather than face interrogation - I have taken the liberty of removing your belongings and any access to the others you could potentially access. There will be no honour in death for you."

And then he slid the blade away and grasped Sheik's chin with his hand, trying to force him in to looking up. Still, Sheik refused.

"So young," Ganondorf mused, "You must be... what, eighteen, nineteen? Twenty, perhaps? Certainly barely fully grown. You must have only been a child when your people were exterminated like common vermin. Sad."

"Don't touch me," Sheik growled, attempting to jerk his chin away.

Ganondorf laughed, then backhanded him hard. Already unbalanced, Sheik fell hard against his side (his left side, and thus his injured shoulder). Biting down on his lip against the pain, he didn't move any further.

Setting a booted foot against Sheik's forehead, Ganondorf continued. He still sounded bored, like this was simply paperwork for him, a daily routine. Perhaps it was, a dark part of Sheik's mind suggested. "You are a Sheikah," he was saying, "And your people always were the lapdogs of the Royal Family. And, of course, you have been seen with that boy who believes he is a hero. Which leads me to one conclusion."

And then the blade was pointed at his throat. "You know where the Princess and the Hero are. Tell me, and perhaps I will spare your life."

Struggling back up to his knees, Sheik gave him his most defiant stare. "I have no idea where they are," he lied baldly, an expression of forced calm on his face. "So you are wasting your time with me."

"I doubt it," Ganondorf drawled.

It was almost flattering to be thought worthy of the time. At least, it would have been if it wasn't for the sick dread in his stomach, the feeling that this would not even remotely go well.

"The Sheikah servants know much. I demand you tell me what you know."

"I am no Sheikah servant, my lord, just a survivor," Sheik murmured deferentially in answer.

"Your uniform says otherwise."

"A relic from a bygone era. I wear it for sentimentality."

Ganondorf laughed again. "My boy, you are either a liar or a fool," he smirked, "One does not wear the uniform of a Sheikah Guardian unless they either are one or else they are a fool who have themselves a death wish."

And he grabbed Sheik's bangs, forcing him through watering eyes to face him. "You don't have a death wish, do you?" he wheedled, "My spies have seen you giving aid to this so-called hero, but your kind are not known for spontaneous acts of altruism. The eternal servants, are you not? No, you were ordered to help."

He laughed. "And since you are not working for _me_ , then I can only assume that you are working for what pitifully little remains of the Royal Family."

Never minding how utterly patronising it was, he released Sheik's bangs and patted him on the head. "A child aiding children," he mused, "But then, playtime is over. If you are ready to become a man, then you will forget this foolish charade and join with your betters. And your betters are me. Now then," he continued, "Will you tell me where they are?"

And finally, Sheik looked up, locking his gaze with Ganondorf's. "No," he said softly.

Ganondorf's expression slipped from something approaching jovial to a terrifying, blank stillness. "The penalties for disobeying me are harsh, boy," he said softly, and Sheik didn't answer.

He had sworn an oath. He wouldn't betray Link and Zelda, not now, not ever.

"Then remember," Ganondorf told him, whisper-soft, "That all this pain is simply because you refused to speak the word. You can make it stop whenever you want - you simply need to tell me."

There was purple magic growing between Ganondorf's fingers. He looked down at Sheik almost pityingly for a moment, then dropped his hand and let it flow straight in to Sheik's body. A scream tore its way out of his throat.

And it began.

 

It was perhaps an hour to midnight, by now. Sheik was exhausted, limp on the stone floor, curled up against the pain. Every muscle throbbed with agony, a dull pounding or a sharp stabbing or a low dull ache that was all-pervading. And the worst part was, he had almost chosen to inflict this on himself.

Ganondorf had ceased every ten minutes or so. "You just need to tell me where they are, Sheikah," he would tell him, "And it will all go away."

And each time, he had said no.

He had allowed himself to go blank, to escape to somewhere else. It was a Sheikah technique that Impa had taught him in hope that he had never had to use it - to escape so utterly in to his own mind that the outside world was barely a bother, not acknowledged, not even noticed.

The outside world seemed to have a way of intruding in on his mind. It simply could not help enough.

Now, he was half-curled on his side, arms still shackled behind him, blinking back tears of pain and exhaustion. And then Ganondorf was there, setting a cool hand against his forehead.

"Let us see," he murmured, and suddenly, Sheik realised what he was trying to do. With a ragged gasp, he started piling every thought unconnected to Link and Zelda to the front of his brain - his impression of Ganondorf's terrible taste in interior design, perched up in a tree for his own amusement, not a single soul in sight, images of his childhood in Toaru, anything to avoid seeing Zelda or Link. Because then he would know, then he would have failed, then he would be condemning them to death.

Images of Kakariko - neutral, normal, the view from the well down at the village green below. But no, that had been where they had caught him, that was where he had went after the graveyard, that was where he had last seen Link and -

"NO!" Sheik howled, jerking back from Ganondorf's hand, too late to prevent him seeing that one precious memory - he and Link, bodies entwined, Link's hands stroking the soft skin of his hips, his lips pressing kisses beneath the line of Sheik's collar bones - and Ganondorf was laughing, and he was almost sobbing, because that had been the one thing he had never wanted him to see.

"You're not just the Hero's sheepdog," Ganondorf practically cackled, "You are his whore, as well?"

 _Stop crying,_ demanded a voice that sounded very much like Impa's, _Don't let him see how much you cherish the Hero. Don't let him have power over you. Don't let him see how it hurts you, because then it will hurt more._

But he still couldn't stop.

Still laughing, Ganondorf hauled Sheik to his knees by his hair. "Did you beg the Hero to fuck you?" he smirked, "Or did he simply demand you do it? The eternal servants - your people always did go far to _serve_. On your knees because they order it." He smirked. "Did you like it? Did you get a taste for it? Poor duty-bound little Sheikah - every man's whore at a simple request."

He drew the scimitar, drawing a deep cross beneath Sheik's collar bone. "A kiss," he murmured, "From hard steel instead of a Hero's inexperienced mouth." Heedless of the blood now running down Sheik's chest, he slid the blade lightly down to one hip, carving a deep line above his hip bone. "A caress," he added, and did the same on the other side, "From iron instead of your Hero's hands."

And he lifted Sheik's chin to stare at him, although to Sheik's eyes, glazed with pain, he was only a vague blur. "Every time you look in the mirror," he said softly, "Every touch, every caress, every precious moment with a lover... you will remember _this_ instead of _him_. Captain!"

The sound of footsteps from behind him wasn't even enough to rouse Sheik. He had withdrawn somewhere, not quite the total disappearance that Impa had taught him, but enough that he only caught the trail end of Ganondorf's words - " -And I will turn him over to your capable hands."

Sheik could almost hear the sick grin on the Captain's face. "For how long?"

Ganondorf considered. "Take two hours," he suggested, and started to turn away. Then he stopped, turning back. "And Captain," he said almost dryly, "Take some potion with you. Remember, I am the only one allowed to mark him."

"Not a problem," the Captain grinned, and hauled Sheik to his feet by one arm. "Come along, Blood Eye."

And Sheik allowed himself to be dragged out of Ganondorf's chambers.

It was simply too much to process. In the space of a day (for it was not yet midnight), he had encountered his love's dark side, shared his first kiss with him, lost the closest thing he had to a parent, almost been killed by something that should have never existed, shared his body for the first time with someone he loved wholeheartedly and had never had a chance to tell, and now this, and whatever else was still in store.

What would the Captain do to him that Ganondorf hadn't already? He wasn't sure there was much that could outdo that torture.

"So, my pretty thing," the Captain was saying lightly, even as he shoved him down the halls, "My Lord tells me that you're the so-called Hero's whore." And he grabbed the back of Sheik's hair, dragging his head backwards so that it rested back against the Captain's shoulder. "That so-called Hero is only a boy," he laughed, "Let's see how you like it with real men, huh?"

And Sheik realised that it was going to get much, much worse.

A floor above the dungeons, still underground, was the quarters for Ganondorf's guard. The non-humans, the Lizalfos and Dinolfos and Stalfos and Iron Knuckles, had their own areas, but this was for the humans - brainwashed Hyrulean soldiers, recruits too afraid and terrified to ever raise a protest, and those who had willingly relinquished their vows to serve the Hyrulean Royal Family to turn traitor. That was what the Captain had been, Sheik would later learn - a traitor, a royal guard who had switched his allegiances at the first sign of change in the air, one who had risen through the ranks thanks to his cruelty and his sadism and willingness to inflict pain and humiliation at Ganondorf's demands.

And now he was pushing him through the door of the guards' quarters, sticking out a foot so that Sheik went sprawling, twisting to the side so that he landed on his shoulder instead of his face and immediately regretting it. And then there was the sound of booted feet on carpet, and then a hand pulling his head up by the hair.

"Gentlemen," the Captain laughed, "Our entertainment for the night has arrived."

And the door slammed shut.

 

It was late. Past midnight, although Sheik had little sense of time. They had stopped a little while ago - that, he knew. How long, he couldn't say.

The door was opening again, the low murmur of conversation nearly coming to a halt. And then the shackles around his wrists were being unfastened - his legs unable to support him, Sheik slid off the table and hit the floor.

The hands that pulled him in to an unknown lap were gentle, almost soothing, stroking his hair as a damp cloth wiped the tears and other fluids from his face. He only flinched when the unknown hand began wiping the blood and fluids from the back of his legs, trying to curl away from being touched there again, wanting to flee with a desperation that bordered on the wild.

"Poor little Sheikah," the voice murmured gently, running the damp cloth between his thighs, "You didn't like that very much, did you?"

The sarcastic part of Sheik's mind almost desperately wanted to ask who actually liked being abused in that fashion. The rest of him was too exhausted and sick and in pain and afraid to do so.

"But you can make it stop," Ganondorf continued gently, brushing his sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes. "You can ensure that this need never happen again."

And then he found himself being pulled in to his lap, Ganondorf's mouth perilously close to his ear. "All you have to do is tell me where they are."

Sheik closed his eyes.

"No."

"...So be it."

 

He was returned to his cell, force fed more potion, feeling the wounds knitting together. The marks Ganondorf had left beneath his collar bone and on his hips had been left for too long without potion, and the fingers that had dug in to them and smeared blood over his legs probably not the greatest treatment besides - now, they would leave scars, permanent reminders every time he looked at his reflection of what had happened.

Huddled in the furthest corner of what passed for his bed, Sheik waited for the morning.

Soon, a dreary routine began to take shape. During the days, he would be at the mercy of either Ganondorf or one of his personal torturers. During the night, if he had not given Ganondorf any information he could use (which was, indeed, every night), he would be handed over to the guards.

The second night, he had tried to fight. They had beaten him in to unconsciousness, and he had woken to find the taste of potion cloying in his mouth and his hands already chained in to place, the Captain grabbing his chin and smirking and asking if he was going to scream and cry like the last time.

After that, Sheik had remained silent, refusing to let the tears come. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

And then, there would be more potion, then one of the minor guards to drag him back to his cell. Generally, Sheik was in no condition to fight at this time; frequently, the guard would take advantage at his state before sending him back.

And then there would be another slice of bread (the other, he received upon waking) and water for both drinking and cleaning delivered by one of the young Gerudo servant girls, and then a restless sleep (despite his exhaustion) on the wooden bed, and then it would start again the next morning.

He did, at one point, get a reprieve from Ganondorf's interrogations. Three days of sensory deprivation, soundless, sightless blackness that made Sheik's mind come up with its own things to torture him with, interrupted only by his nightly punishment with the guards. He had almost looked forward for those, simply for the opportunity to see and hear and smell and feel again.

Once, just once, he had come closer than he had ever come to failure. It was a room that the Hyrulean Royal Family had made use off, a small chamber free of furniture, its walls and floor and ceiling designed to slowly produce ever-brightening amounts of magically created light. To Hylians, affiliated with light, it would be a restful chamber, used for meditation and relaxation and healing.

To a Sheikah, to whom magically created light was anathema, it was a torture chamber.

Like fire to a Zora, perhaps.

It hurt more than the worst torture he had already received - every square inch of skin burned and ached and making Sheik want to claw his skin off. He had hidden his face against his drawn-up knees, rocking backwards and forwards, telling himself he wasn't breaking his rule for not crying and that it was simply his eyes watering, whispering, "I'll tell you, I'll tell you, I'll tell you" in words too voiceless to ever be heard.

They had let him out four hours later. He had lost the fight against unconsciousness two hours earlier.

Eleven days had passed, now - Sheik had kept count by the amount of times he had been dragged off to the guards. Eleven days of Ganondorf's interrogations and torture and of the guards and of losing blood without having a chance to heal and sleep deprivation and not enough food and water. Eleven days of pain he endured only for Link and Zelda's sakes.

Eleven days of Link not coming to his rescue.

He was too sick and exhausted to fight, now. He was stretched out on a stone table, unrestrained - he was hardly a threat - only able to listen as Ganondorf carved in to his stomach above his left hip.

"I expect," he was saying, "They told you it was ‘the enemy'. Simply that. They had asked your people to join them, had been refused, and had massacred them in retaliation. If only," he almost smiled, and carved another line.

"I expect," he repeated, "That you never knew of the way the Sheikah were mistreated prior to the war. Little more than slaves, really - no wonder almost half of your people had joined the enemy. A true civil war." He added another line, angled up then down again. "Brother against brother, husband against wife, parent against child."

The Sheikah had joined the enemy? No, they had fought the enemy, they had been on the side of Hyrule, the side of the Royal Family, their duty to the end... hadn't they? Impa had always told him how they had fought the enemy... hadn't she?

Ganondorf smiled, and pressed a finger against the design he was carving in Sheik's flesh. Sheik's breath hitched in pain; otherwise, he made no other sign.

"Of course," he continued, "They had to be stopped. The Sheikah were powerful in magic - that was the source of the ‘dark power' the enemy wielded, of course. To that end, every last one of your people had to be exterminated - the elderly, the infirm, children."

And he drew a sharp, deep line across the Eye of Truth he had carved in to Sheik's skin, and murmured, "It wasn't the enemy that slaughtered the Sheikah, you know - it was an order from your beloved Hylian Royal Family."

"No," Sheik whispered - denial, defeat, acceptance. They had betrayed the Sheikah before - they had seen them join the enemy...

The girl he had given his first kiss to, his best friend, his sister. Her father had ordered the slaughter of his people, his family.

"If you do not believe me," Ganondorf said gently, "Check the records. They are there. The Hylians ordered the slaughter of the Sheikah - so why continued protecting them?" And then he lifted the bloody blade and began to cut in to the flesh above his left eye. "Why are you so willingly _blind_?"

And then Sheik realised what he was about to do.

Summoning up the last of his strength, he fought. "No," he pleaded, "Please, don't do this, no, I beg you..."

The Goddesses had given the Hylians ears to hear their messages. They had given the Sheikah eyes to see the truth - and for a Sheikah to be blinded would be to take away what made them who they were.

Ganondorf lifted the blade and replaced it beneath his eye, continuing the line he was drawing there, parallel and equal to the one carved on his stomach. For one brilliant, shining moment, he thought Ganondorf would be merciful, would only give the impression of blindness, permanent scars but no other damage.

And then, without warning, he slashed the blade across his eye, and that was the end of that.

Sheik had screamed, curling in to a ball, both hands pressed tight over his ruined eye. His entire body was shaking with the force of his sobbing breaths, his every thought repeating over and over: _he blinded me, he blinded me, he blinded me_.

Ganondorf reached out dispassionately, unfurling him by force, pressing him down against the table. "Tell me where they are," he said.

"I'd rather have my tongue cut out," Sheik managed to say, and spat in his face.

"That can be arranged," the Gerudo snarled, and then his blade was aimed straight for his face. Sheik shoved himself backwards, the edge of the blade raking across his mouth and leaving a parallel scar to the one over his eye, and doubled over again, this time pressing one hand to his mouth, as well.

And Ganondorf simply stared down at him in utter contempt, turned on his heel, and stalked off.


	10. Up Against the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, implied rape.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, crumpled in to a ball on the floor. It felt like an eternity before one of the servant girls slipped in, a full bottle of potion in her hand. A faint noise of distress escaped her lips when she saw him.

Crossing the floor, she knelt beside his curled-up form. A strong pair of hands forced him to uncurl slightly, dabbing potion on to a cloth and then squeezing it over the wounds along his stomach, then came to rest on the hand covering his mouth. "Let me see," she requested softly.

Sheik didn't move, hands still clamped over his eye and his mouth.

"You must move your hands," she almost begged, "Otherwise, I cannot help you. And..." Another soft, distressed noise.

Silently, Sheik shifted the hand away from his mouth, his lips still clamped against the feeling of the wound running through them. It felt like he had been split open - like if he opened his mouth, it would rip him open. But the servant was just dabbing potion on, and then dripping it directly on, and he could feel skin and muscle knitting together again.

"That's better," she murmured, then asked, "Can you speak?"

"I... yes," Sheik croaked. His voice was hoarse, but that had been more from his rather vigorous protests than Ganondorf's blade. "Thank you."

The girl nodded again. "Your eye, please," she told him quietly.

Another long hesitation, and then Sheik slid his other hand away, both eyes squeezed shut. He could feel the same again - potion dabbed on to the wounds, more dribbled on directly. "Your eyes must have been open," she said softly as she worked, "There is no damage to your eyelid." A pause, and then she said, "Will you open your eye for me?"

Sheik shook his head fiercely. That was a little too much to ask - that would mean confronting it, facing the truth. Caught between the table and the wall, he backed up further against the stone, bringing his hands up again to cover his eyes. Beneath his fingertips, he could feel the new scars; he didn't want to know what that meant for his eye.

"Please," she whispered.

And he couldn't deny her that. Unfurling, he lowered his hands, eyes still closed. She gave him a reassuring pat and helped him tip his head back, cupping one hand over his wounded eye. "So the light does not dazzle you," she told him optimistically.

The sensation of having half a bottle of potion poured in his eye was not a pleasant one. Even after he had blinked most of it out, it still stung, although that was fading too. It _felt_ intact and whole; whether it actually was healed was a different question entirely.

Covering his right, good eye, he slowly opened his left.

And was confronted with pitch blackness.

He wasn't even aware of the, "No, no, no," he was whispering under his breath, a repeated mantra in the hopes that he could open his eye again and see. Perhaps there was just potion in his eye still, perhaps it was just temporary and his ability to see would return in time, perhaps the room was just dark - he opened his good eye and vision swam back to it, and he closed both.

"You look like you are weeping," the Gerudo servant whispered, her tone simultaneously awed and afraid. "Tears of blood, from the potion..."

That, Sheik decided numbly as she carefully led him back to his cell, too exhausted to fight or escape or even walk in a straight line, was only appropriate.

 

Sheik was rapidly becoming ill.

It was simply a combination of too much stress - the torture had taken its toll on his body, his nightly punishments with the guards even more so. The potion he was given after every session worked excellently in terms of closing what wounds he had, but it didn't replenish the blood he had lost, and nor did it erase the bruises that ringed his wrists and ankles, upper arms and throat, mottled and dark against his hips and inside his thighs.

And then to add in the lack of sleep (from the light and noise of the dungeons), the lack of food (even his two slices of bread a day had been cut off since Ganondorf had blinded him), and the lack of water (he had been lucky to get one single cup a day), and he was simply becoming quite unwell. His pulse raced, his breathing fast and shallow, his skin clammy and cool to touch. The world beneath his feet would tip and spin alarmingly should he be foolish enough to attempt to rise, his thoughts raced with hidden anxieties, bordering on panic.

Every fearful thing he had carefully hidden away was coming back. His anxiety about Zelda - was she alright in the Boundary? Had she received his message; had she been able to teach Link the last song? He knew Link would have had to return to the Temple of Time - Sheik gazed sightlessly at the wall through to where he thought the Temple was and wished for his presence. What of Malon - had Ingo truly redeemed himself, or had he turned them all over to Ganondorf for aiding Link? Had they taken the ranch? Was Impa alright? Every Sage so far had died before their awakening - had she done the same, or had Link saved her? Had Link fallen victim to the Shadow Temple? Had they got their claws in him, was he entombed there even now? Had they caught him on his departure, was he being held in another cell, undergoing the same treatment?

Caught between physical illness and the imaginings of his own fevered mind, Ganondorf's torture was almost unnecessary. Indeed, he seemed to agree - the next morning, he had not been retrieved for his interrogation session, remaining locked in his darkened cell without breakfast and without company.

The day passed. Sheik found himself in a corner, curled in on himself, trying not to give in to the maddening fears his mind was producing.

He had not seen his tormentor for more than a day - the night Ganondorf blinded him, he had been given a reprieve from his nightly torment. By the time evening came around, Sheik had come up with the distinctly optimistic idea that since the torture had stopped, perhaps so had the punishments.

The door squeaked open, and Sheik glanced up. Perhaps they would give him dinner? He had heard the servants go by before, but perhaps they had missed him, perhaps --

In the dark, a hand curled painfully in his hair, hauling him to his knees. And a far too familiar voice hissed, "Lord Ganondorf might have left you to rot, Sheikah, but I still want to hear your screams."

And Sheik couldn't even put up a fight as he was dragged out of his cell again.

 

Not enough food, not enough water, not enough sleep. (Not enough blood - that was certainly a major one.) Sheik was stretched out prone on his wooden bed, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling - there was still dried blood in his hair from when Ganondorf had blinded him, the new scars itching.

He wasn't touching them. He refused to even acknowledge them - they were a mark of his failure. He hadn't even fought, he hadn't even _resisted_ \- he had just lain there and let Ganondorf use his flesh to sharpen his knives.

And now, as his reward, he was half blind. The cell was dark, but for him to only cover one eye and to plunge the world in to darkness... he could not see a thing. Not the light shining through the bars in the door, not the dim lines of the contours of the room, not his hand in front of his face.

There was simply... nothing.

_Useless._

What if he had resisted? All too clearly, he could see Ganondorf slitting his throat in a fit of pique, a lethal punishment for his continued fighting. Or he'd be handed to the Captain - he'd almost prefer the slit throat, in that case. The Captain seemed to show a sadistic streak and talent for cruelty that clearly showed why he was Ganondorf's attack dog - his fate if he was handed over to the Captain was not one he wanted to imagine.

He imagined suicide - escaping somehow, jumping from one of the towers to the fiery pit below, or provoking his captors until they rewarded him with his death, or simply a slow death from lack of sleep and lack of food until he became a ghost to haunt the dungeons.

And what if Link failed? His life would not worth be living. And what of Zelda? What of Hyrule? Impa, and Saria, and Ruto - they would have died in vain, then. Malon - they could take the ranch, have her taken away for her disobedience or else forcibly cool her temper and turn her in to the perfect citizen.

What if Link never came for him? What if he had decided that the salvation of Hyrule was not worth the sacrifice it had taken? It had been almost two weeks, and yet he had not come for him.

Sheik both loved and hated him both, a little. He would have seen Zelda in her glamoured guise as him by now, that much was certain. Or... at least, that much, he hoped was certain - that he hadn't wasted time after the Shadow Temple, that he had went straight to the desert. What if he had been lost in the sands? What if he had been lost in the shadows?

What if he had seen Zelda's disguise and had never realised that it wasn't him? He wasn't sure what hurt more - him not recognising the disguise for what it was, or realising that it was not him and still doing nothing. He hadn't been waiting for him after the Shadow Temple - why had Link not realised then?

If Ganondorf wanted him to speak of his location, he would not be able to do so. He did not know where Link was, or where Zelda was hiding now, or where Impa had disappeared to after her awakening - _if_ she had awakened.

He was shaking, he noticed idly - a light sheen of sweat clung to his skin, but it was almost cool to the touch, several shades paler than usual. He was sick, and becoming sicker. The thought that he could well die here rose in his mind again.

Unless he told Ganondorf what he wanted.

He could just tell him - lie, if he could. Zelda and Link could escape him, couldn't they? Well - Link could, at least - Link could fight, Link could... he couldn't escape in to the Shadows, and that hadn't even saved him.

And Zelda... if he breathed a word of her hiding place, if they found her, she would be helpless. And her blood, and the blood of all of Hyrule, would be on his hands.

For an instance, the image - intrusively - appeared in his head - Link and Zelda, dead at Ganondorf's hands, his own hands slick with their blood. And his dream-self looked down at them and didn't mourn.

And then his true self was back. Curling in to a ball and pushing the palms of his hands against his eyes, he waited.

 

On the eleventh day, Ganondorf had blinded him. On the twelfth day, he found out he would not even be given the dignity of allow to rot in peace.

On the fourteenth day, they caught Zelda.

He first learnt of this when she was brought to his cell - hands bound in front of her with a crystal band, a few hairs out of place but otherwise unscathed, she was regal and beautiful, dressed in the gown and crown that had once belonged to her mother that Impa had stolen away years earlier, the calm, clean, reassuring eye in the middle of Sheik's private storm.

The crystal bonds disappeared the moment she stepped over the threshold, an armed guard joining them in the cell. Curled up on his wooden bed, Sheik stared in disbelief as she hesitantly approached him.

Another hallucination?

"Sheik?" she whispered cautiously, touching the tips of her gloved fingers to his dirty cheek.

Slowly, Sheik reached up, resting the tips of his own fingers against the back of her hand.

And then the composure shattered, and Zelda flung herself in to his arms. She was crying - he could feel her tears damp against his skin even as he tried to comfort her, stroking her back, murmuring soft words to her.

"He's coming," she promised fiercely, "He got the arrows. He awakened the Sages. Sheik..." She drew back, tears in her blue eyes, a wavery smile on her face. "Sheik, he's going to get us both out of here."

Sheik simply nodded, resisting the urge to smile. Link was coming! He would free them both, and defeat Ganondorf, and then...

Well. At least now he didn't have to worry about trying to hide a smile.

"Was he... alright?" he whispered urgently instead, "Did he seem fine? Was he hurt, or tired, or..."

"He was fine," Zelda murmured, "But... he will be quite confused to see you." She dropped her gaze. "I did what you would do," she whispered, "At the Spirit Temple and at the Temple of Time. I kept my distance, and..." She laughed shakily. "When I dropped the illusion, I only had time to give him the arrows before... before..."

"Before you were caught," Sheik murmured automatically. She had kept her distance because she had thought that was what Sheik would have done, and in the process, Link must have been... hurt? Confused? He almost didn't want to ask. "I wouldn't have kept my distance," he whispered.

Zelda frowned in confusion, resting one hand lightly against his cheek. Then her eyes widened at the image Sheik provided her with - that last kiss in the graveyard. "I didn't realise," she stammered, "I'm sorry, I..."

"You didn't know," Sheik murmured, and shook his head. "We can explain later."

"We can," she murmured, and whispered again, "I'm sorry." Then she hesitated. "Do you love him?"

Sheik nodded silently.

Zelda nodded once in reply, and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "I give you my blessing," she murmured, and squeezed his hands before promptly abandoning protocol and giving him a proper hug. Then she sat back and frowned. "Sheik, when was the last time you had a solid meal?"

Pulling a face, Sheik muttered, "Two weeks ago. I got two pieces of bread a day, here, and nothing for the last three." And oh, he was beginning to feel - and look - it. He doubted he could walk out of there if he tried.

A fiercely determined expression crossed over her face. "I'll make sure you get something to eat and drink," she said firmly, "Ganondorf still needs me - he let me come down here, I'm sure he will let you have nourishment."

Finding himself impressed despite himself at the fact that Zelda had managed to convince his captor of anything, he still doubted it somewhat. "If you can," he murmured, glancing away - it was too dark to make out anything properly in the room simply shape and shadow and movement, and he was glad for it. It meant that Zelda could not see the abuse that had been inflicted on his body; it meant that she could fight Ganondorf without fear or hesitation.

But even this...

"Zelda," he whispered, "You and Link... Hyrule depends on you." He practically choked on the words, squeezing his eyes shut. "Forget about me. Don't anger him - you will both need your wits about you if you are to save us all."

"I can't forget about you!" she protested in an equal whisper, "Sheik, you're my best and closest friend, I won't abandon you here..."

He shook his head fiercely, managed to reach up enough to set his hands on her shoulders, wondered at the armour he felt there. "I would tear this world apart to save you," he murmured, "But you have a responsibility to all of Hyrule, not just me. Ignore me, and do not give him reason to punish you - without you, we all fail."

Zelda nodded, almost tearfully. "I'll come back for you," she vowed, "When this is over - the first thing I will do is set you free." And she leaned across to kiss him on the forehead again, squeezing his hand in hers.

"Good luck," he said gently.

"You too," she murmured in reply, and then she was led away again.

And Sheik waited.

 

Through the remnants of a fever, he could hear snippets of noise and chaos. Someone was running, shouting something he couldn't make out. What sounded like an entire battalion storming down the halls - he could hear the Captain shout, "Cut him off at the eastern corridor!" before the sounds faded out. There was a low growl, and then the sounds of heavy clawed feet on stone as the doors to one of the cells slammed open, the feet's owners disappearing off in to the distance.

Link had arrived.

And he waited. And he waited some more.

Link was so close, and he could do nothing.

There were more shouts, more slammed doors, more running feet. Once, when the huge metal doors that led to the dungeons were opened, he could hear the distant sound of clashing swords.

And then, there was nothing.

It lasted for hours. Sheik was stretched out on his wooden bed, eyes closed, seemingly asleep but listening closely. His hands were curled in to fists, nails digging crescents in to his palms, the only sign of tension in his body.

He couldn't slip in to the shadows here, not with _his_ magic overriding everything, but he could still listen to their whispers. And they whispered of six seals broken open, of a barrier passed. And of battles - blood spilt, but not his. The blood of a Hero, of a Triforce bearer - it would shake the foundations of the castle to their component stones.

And not Zelda's. She was shut away from the shadow, but she was protected still by light.

No, Link and Zelda were still alive.

There was a battle raging, one that the shadows could not even begin to approach. Link wielded the Master Sword and the Light Arrows, both powerful weapons of Light. Ganondorf's magic was not that of Light, nor of Shadow. It was not of Fire or Water, Spirit or Forest; it was not anything recognisable as belonging to the world.

Ganondorf's magic was that of the Dark. Where Shadow needed Light to survive, needed light to cast it, the Dark was simply the absence of Light.

Link and Zelda represented the Light, and the Dark was trying to blot them out.

He could see it as a balance - not the fine details, but the Light in conflict with the Dark. Much of the time, the Light seemed to hold the advantage. For a few terrifying moments, the Dark smothered it beneath its baleful influence.

And then the Light surged ahead, blasting the Dark away, shining in to every corner and crevice. For just a moment, the Shadow fled utterly, skulking around the edges to lick its wounds.

And then there was nothing.

And then the castle began to shake.

The dungeons were empty, now - stumbling to his feet, Sheik peered through the bars of the door, noting the other doors swinging open freely. Only he was still caught there, a helpless rat in a cage as the castle collapsed around him, fragments of stone and dust raining through the weak parts of the ceiling.

Sheik was running on adrenaline, now. The foundations were weakening, and that (hopefully) meant his prison would be, as well - pivoting on one foot, he aimed a savage kick at the hinges of the door.

Hissing at the pain in his foot, he tried again. This time, the stone shifted a little, enough for the hinge to bend and break. But it was still held fast - two more hinges held it solid, the latch as well.

The latch... he could not kick that high, so instead he hammered at it with his hands and then a chunk of rock that had slid free. He refused to die here, trapped in this place - what good would it be if Ganondorf was dead if he stayed here and was buried in the rubble?

And then the door simply swung open.

Sheik stared for a moment, but he didn't hesitate - staggering out, he almost stumbled straight in to Zelda. She caught an arm around his waist and shouted, "Hurry!", and Sheik thought it probably best to obey.

And Link... Link was there, keeping pace ahead of them, getting rid of the last of the Lizalfos and Stalfos and ReDeads that blocked the path from freedom. Sheik couldn't see his face like this - he was aimed at eliminating their obstacles, although the glimpse he caught as Zelda turned to open the last of the locked doors showed that it was pale and drawn, fiercely determined and passionate.

And then they were out, outside in the setting sun, Sheik's bare feet pounding over the rainbow bridge that spanned the molten rock below, the sweet smell of freedom in the air (along with a rather substantial amount of dust and shattered stone and the metallic scent of blood).

They stopped beside the entrance to the fairy fountain, Sheik still leaning against Zelda to remain upright, breathing hard - but he could feel the shadows again, creeping around his feet as if they were saying hello.

And as the castle collapsed, his magic flooded back to him.

"It's over," Zelda was whispering, "It's finally over." There were tears in her blue eyes.

Navi swept down, settling on Link's head. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you in the battle before!" she chirped, almost close to tears.

But that was irrelevant, now. Link was gazing at him, horror and grief and relief and simple astonishment mingling on his face, taking a stumbling step towards him.

"Sheik," he whispered.

And then the skies turned black, and Sheik realised that the battle had only just begun.


	11. Make The World Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Coarse language, violence.

The night was rent with a rumble. Zelda gasped, and Link spun around, ushering her back. "What was that sound?" she whispered hoarsely.

Taking his sword in hand, he glanced back uncertainly at the both of them, taking a few steps forward. And flames shot up behind him - Sheik growled low in his throat as he and Zelda were cut off from him, Link spinning back in alarm.

And then he turned back as rocks shattered in to the air, spraying up and falling back down in chunks. And in the middle of it all was Ganondorf, arms outstretched, eyes glowing in madness, the Triforce of Power bright on the back of his hand.

A scream of rage, of power and anger and fury, tore from his throat. And then light seemed to explode out of him, dazzling all three - Sheik could feel the brightness more than he could see it, eyes squeezed shut, arm flung up.

There was a tremendous thump. Where Ganondorf had once been, a monster now was.

The swords, bigger than Link's entire body, came down. The Master Sword went up. And then the Master Sword spun out of Link's hand, soaring through the flames to embed in the ground barely a yard from Sheik's feet.

And Link still turned back. And Navi determinedly cried, "There's no way he's going to hold me back again!" If she hadn't been a fist-sized ball of light, she looked like she would have taken on Ganon herself. "This time," she cried, " _We fight together_!"

And then the battle started.

Sheik felt like he could barely breathe, watching the battle - Link ducking fearlessly between the thing Ganondorf had become's legs, slashing at the pulsating, swollen tail with the other sword he had had sheathed somewhere, aiming brilliant white Light Arrows at him whenever he could. Even from where Sheik was, he could feel the radiant burn against his bare skin.

But he endured it, because this was Link's fight and Link's destiny and Link's grim determination that would save Hyrule.

Once, one of the swords caught Link's body - only the flat of it, but it was still enough to throw him against a stone pillar, dazing him. Zelda gave a short shriek as the other blade came down - and, admittedly, Sheik felt like doing much the same - but Link still managed to duck away in time, sending stone fragments flying in to the air.

And then one of Link's blows struck home. Ganon bellowed and collapsed, and the wall of flame dropped.

Immediately, Zelda screamed out. "Link, the Master Sword is here, _hurry_!" Link sprinted over, grabbing it from the ground - even exhausted and dusty, he had never looked more like the Legendary Hero of Time than he did then.

Or like a frightened young man, in over his head.

Or like the one Sheik loved and had never been able to tell.

"Do it," he choked out, trying to take a step towards him and almost stumbling, "For all of Hyrule - for her!"

And even though Link's blue eyes were alight with fear - fear that Sheik realised with a little thrill was directed at _him_ , fear for his sake, he still nodded. "For Hyrule," he whispered, "For her - for you."

And he turned back to the battle field.

The flame barrier had returned, but Link had the Blade of Evil's Bane, now. And that meant that Ganon's days were numbered - still being supported by Zelda as much as he was supporting her, they watched on.

And then the battle was rather rudely interrupted - battered, dusty, bloodied, and furiously mad, the Captain of the Guard was emerging through the smoke and dust.

" _Blood Eye_!" he snarled, "This ends for you _tonight_!" And his sword came whistling through the air, aimed precisely at where Sheik's head was.

Or rather, where Sheik's head had been a second before. Free from the influence of Ganondorf's castle, Sheik plunged in to the Shadow, taking Zelda with him. And then they re-emerged, Sheik shielding the princess with his body, the blade he hadn't held in so long steady in his hand.

"My song has yet to end," Sheik whispered, and lunged.

Now, two battles raged - one, the ultimate clash. The Bearer of the Triforce of Power and the Bearer of the Triforce of Courage, the Legendary Hero of Time against the King of Evil, fire and blood and blades and magic and animal savagery.

And the other, somewhat smaller, but no less desperate. This was the man who had taken pleasure in hurting him, the one who had forced screams from his throat until it was raw, who had used him until he was curled up and bleeding on the floor.

And now both he and his hero were fighting to kill.

Sheik had no illusions about goodness or mercy or letting his enemy live. The Captain was too dangerous - if he let him go, there was no guarantee he would stay away. If the choice came between the survival of an enemy who had laughed as he had carved his name in to Sheik's chest then washed it away with potion so he could do it again, and protecting himself and Zelda and anyone else from ever being abused like that, he would end it every time.

"Do you know," he hissed at Zelda even as he swung his blade towards Sheik, his voice low and dangerous, "What I managed to do to your pet servant?"

Zelda growled at him defiantly. "Something you'll never do again," she snapped at him, her gloved hands balled in to fists.

The Captain laughed derisively. "Wrong answer, lovely," he grinned, "Your pretty little Blood Eye was quite the attraction in the dungeons." And then he began to outline precisely what he had done to him.

"We chained him to a nice sturdy table, and then we tore his clothes off..."

Sheik closed his eyes for a moment, sickened at hearing it again like that. The scars on his skin were symbols, evidence of his failure - for a moment, he wanted to claw it off. And the Captain still continued, spinning his sword to send Sheik's blade flying. Sheik scrambled to reach it and the Captain spun around, knocking Sheik's feet from beneath him.

He landed flat on his face, bracing himself with his hands and gasping in pain as his previously dislocated shoulder jarred. And then the Captain was on him, straddling his hips, forcing his face in to the dust. "Just like that, yes," he said as cheerfully as if discussing the weather, patting his head, forcing his arms back. "And guess what, lovely?"

He bucked his hips against Sheik's and grinned.

"When my Lord kills your little Hero, I get to keep the Blood Eye as my personal pet."

But neither had any time to response. Because with a scream that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire castle grounds, Ganon was down.

And then brilliantly bright light penetrated the gloom. The Captain was knocked away by the force of it, but the majority was focused solely on the fallen beast. "Link," Zelda cried, "I'm using my power to hold the Evil King - use your sword and deliver the final blow!"

And then she drooped, almost falling to her knees. Far away, Link's sword glowed with the power Zelda had given it, but that didn't matter to Sheik - pushing himself off the ground, he stumbled over to her side, pulling her in to his arms.

Link drew the sacred sword back, and plunged it in to Ganon's skull.

Zelda stumbled forward, leaving Sheik to support himself. Her voice barely a whisper, she murmured, "Six Sages..."

Then she spread her hands, fiercely white light glowing between them, and screamed, "NOW!"

And without a second thought, Zelda collapsed to the ground again. But the light was flaring and glowing and brightening, spreading to reach every corner of the battle field...

...And then Link, Zelda, and Ganon were gone.

Sheik stared across at the field dumbly - they had gone? Where? But this was something he could never have - he was no Sage, no bearer of a piece of the Triforce. This was between them and the Sacred Realm, and he was simply relegated to the position of bystander.

And then he spun as if sensing the silent footsteps approaching by some sense other than his ears, and separated the Captain's right arm from his body.

The Captain howled, grabbing at the bloody stump even as Sheik shifted back in to a battle stance. "This... isn't over," the Captain was growling, plucking his sword from his own severed right hand, stabbing inefficiently at Sheik.

But Sheik had the advantage, now. The Captain was certainly an able fighter, even with his left hand, but Sheik was far better with his right. The swords clashed, Sheik did the same spinning technique that the Captain had used to disarm him earlier, and the broadsword clattered off to one side.

And that was just enough time for Sheik to dart around, grab the Captain's hair like he had done so often to Sheik, dragging his head back and set his blade to his throat like the Captain had done to him.

"How do you like it?" Sheik murmured, his voice icily calm.

The Captain's eyes were wide with fear, the absolute fear and panic of a man certain he was about to die. And Sheik didn't move his blade - that same look had been in his eyes before, inflicted by the man whose hair he now held in a fist. "Let me go," he almost begged.

"You never let me go," Sheik said quietly.

"I was only following orders!" he spluttered.

Sheik nodded, as if that explained everything. "A coward's explanation," he continued flatly, his hand tightening on the hilt of the blade.

"I have a wife and children," he begged.

"How many of the ones you tortured and abused and killed had families of their own?" Sheik replied, almost gently.

He had started crying now, fat tears sliding from the corners of his eyes, his nose running. "Mercy," he begged, "Please, have mercy."

"No," Sheik said, and asked him, "Did you show me any when I was in your grasp?"

He'd just need to pull the blade back a fraction. And then the man would bleed out, and Hyrule would be free of him.

And the Captain hissed, "Fuck you. Oh, wait, already did."

"Wrong answer," Sheik told him, and pulled back the blade.

He was never entirely clear what happened next. He was vaguely aware of stumbling away a few steps, the bloodied blade dropping from his nerveless fingers to clatter against the ground. He remembered looking up, seeing the eternal gloom that surrounded Castle Town giving way to the twinkle of a single star.

And he remembered the ground rising up to meet him as the adrenaline that had kept him going for the past hour drained away, and then nothing more.

 

"But why won't he wake up?"

"Exhaustion... they weren't giving him food or water... Ganondorf hurt him. He would have been weak from that, and they never let him heal..."

She isn't speaking of what the Captain had told her. For that, faint relief penetrates the dark, comforting world he is cocooned in.

"I'll kill him. I'll yank him out of the Dark World and kill him, I swear it."

"I don't quite think that's feasible."

And not particularly wise, either. He loves Link, he just isn't sure he possesses much common sense.

"I don't care. He hurt Sheik - I won't let him get away with that. Not ever."

"I know. But the ones that did are dead and gone, now."

"...Ones?"

No, Sheik pleads silently, don't tell him.

"Link, do you love him?"

There's a long silence.

"I... I don't..." A sigh. "A couple of months ago, I was a kid in an adult's body. And now I'm an adult, but I missed so much. I'm all... screwed up in the head. I have thoughts that seem weird and natural at the same time. Even..." Another sigh. "I think I do, yeah."

"I... I am glad."

And even though it's soft, even though it goes unremarked on by Link, he can still hear her whisper, "And I'm sorry."

The world fades away again.

 

But now, it was starting to become more distinct. It wasn't just sound cutting through the haze, but sensation as well. Pain - that was there. And hunger, and thirst, and cold, and pressure and heat - he was lying on his back, his head pillowed against something soft, something warm and solid wrapped around one of his hands.

His eyes blinked open, gazing up at the sight Zelda's face from upside down, his pillow revealed as her lap. She gave a short, shakily, relieved laugh, running a hand through his bangs, tears of relief shining in her eyes.

And then he glanced over as the warm, solid thing around his hand squeezed spasmodically, revealing itself to be both of Link's hands wrapped around one of his. Link... looked like a mess, with blood matting one side of his bangs together, the marks of fatigue on his face, bruises and abrasions and cuts marring his skin, tunic ripped and burnt in places, coated in blood and gore from battling Ganondorf.

He was the most beautiful thing Sheik had ever seen.

"Sheik," Link started haltingly, his speech speeding up almost frantically, "I'm so sorry, I didn't even know, I... I had thought that you had had regrets after we... I mean..."

And he choked back a sob, reached down, and pulled Sheik up in to his arms.

It was borderline pathetic to his mind, but he immediately curled in to the embrace, clinging to the green fabric, blinking back tears. After everything, after all the pain and torment and humiliation and deprivation and the fear of seeing Link fight for his life, it was all worth it just to be with him again.

Unable to look at him in the eye, Sheik could only whisper hoarsely against his tunic. "I couldn't tell you before," he choked out, "I was too afraid, I love you --"

And then the barriers came down. "I love you," he whispered again, "I love you, you kept me going, I waited for you, I love you..." A continued mantra of ‘I love you' spilled from his lips until Link lowered his head and stopped him with a kiss.

"I know," Link whispered as they broke apart, "I..." He swallowed hard, put his mouth to Sheik's ear, and murmured it back.

And from above, Navi swooped and looped and chimed and pronounced, "Well, it's about _time_!"

 

The inn at Kakariko had been set up as a make-shift hospital. It was almost pleasant, there - there was fresh food and water, a comfortable bed, medicines (unpleasant, but necessary). He had baulked at drinking red potion, and so Link had retrieved a fairy from somewhere that made the healers remark in surprise. Sheik simply smiled a little and let it heal his wounds - the bruises that ringed his wrists and ankles, upper arms and throat, mottled and dark against his hips and inside his thighs faded from sight, the blood he had lost beginning to replenish itself.

But as for the rest, he would simply need time. Time, and clean water, and fresh food, and rest.

And, of course, Link and Zelda. They had rarely left his side for the next few days; when Link had been found with his head pillowed on his arms against the bed and Zelda slumped back in a chair on the first morning, the healers had finally conceded to bring in another bed.

Zelda claimed that one; Link simply shared his, earning a scandalised shriek from one of the nurses in the morning and a long lecture about strenuous activity that had sent both of them beetroot red and Zelda giggling behind her hands.

So, unable to engage in anything more strenuous than sitting up to look out the window, they had talked.

"It was a glamour," Zelda was explaining, "Which is a sort of... extension, I suppose, of the Sheikah skill of illusion. It is of image only, not touch - that was why I backed away at the desert."

Link nodded, a pensive expression on his face. "I thought that maybe... Sheik didn't like me any more," he murmured, and Sheik reached over to squeeze his hand.

"I'm sorry," Zelda murmured. "But... look." She closed her eyes, the image of the Triforce glowing on her hand as white light shimmered over her form. And as Sheik and Link watched, the light faded to reveal another Sheik, identical to every last detail.

Well - almost every last detail. The illusion lacked his scars.

Link looked fascinated, reaching across to brush his fingers against her arm. As they reached the edge of the glamour, Zelda's illusionary arm seemed to ripple, Link's fingers sinking past it until he made contact with her true arm below.

Sheik winced a little, looking away. It was simply disturbing to see Link sticking his fingers inside his duplicated arm.

"You see why I had to keep my distance," Zelda told him, her voice a hybrid of her own clear Hyrulean syllables and Sheik's soft lilt from the Toarun accent he had never quite managed to totally rid himself of. "You knew the moment I spoke that I was not the true Sheik, did you not?"

"I suspected it," Link murmured, and the illusion dropped again as Zelda nodded.

Sheik had been silent for all that time. But now he spoke up - quiet, almost pleading, almost desperate. "Then why didn't you look for me? The real me?" Reaching out for Link's hand, he squeezed it, needing the reassurance he'd get from him. "If you suspected it wasn't me, then... why?"

Link didn't reply immediately, staring at their entwined hands. "I thought you had had second thoughts," he almost whispered, "And you had... had sent another in your place so you wouldn't have to see me. I grieved all through that temple, and..."

He dropped his head again. "When I saw it was Zelda... I sort of hated both of you for a little bit. And then she got taken to the castle, and when I got Ganondorf, she told me you were in the dungeons and had been there for two weeks, and..."

Squeezing Sheik's hand, blinking back tears, he whispered, "Forgive me."

"Always," Sheik murmured back, almost automatically. But Link had thought he had fled again when he had given him his word that he wouldn't, and had believed that he would willingly put Zelda in danger instead of doing his own duties, and had thought it a lie when Sheik had told him that he would guide him throughout his journey.

And he wasn't sure if he could.

Link nodded slowly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, leaning across for a short, almost awkward kiss. Sheik didn't shy away, but neither was he particularly enthusiastic when it came to returning it.

Zelda simply looked away, her expression sad.

 

"What next?" Link asked blearily the next day, "When Sheik's better, I mean? I expect you'll be crowned soon."

Zelda nodded faintly. "I expect I will have to be," she said, her voice watery. "The villagers have already started clearing out the town now that you've got rid of the ReDeads and started on the Great Hall of the new Castle."

There had been nothing left of the old one. Ganondorf had obliterated it utterly to build his own, and now that that was gone as well...

"They expect it will be ready for my coronation within a month," she said softly, "Already, there are seamstresses in the village preparing a dress for me and for new uniforms for the castle officials, and the blacksmith is casting me a new crown. Since, well." She smiled sadly, touching the jewel on her forehead. "This is a Princess's tiara, not a Queen's. I must cast off childishness and become a ruler."

She sighed, and continued, "And then the true rebuild can begin for the castle and the town." A faint smile crossed her face. "We have brought the town forward," she mused, "We cannot refill the land that the castle once stood on, so the castle will be where the town once stood, and the town will spill in to the field. And then, perhaps, we can expand in to the No Man's Land north of the old castle - there's a garrison there already."

"And the guards?" Link asked - innocently, but at the word, a ball of ice dropped in to Sheik's stomach.

Zelda seemed to catch his thoughts, reaching across to lay a hand on Sheik's. "The ones who were brainwashed are free to go - they did wrong, and they will not be able to work as guards again, but they should not be punished for a crime they were not willing to commit. And the traitors are being held," she continued quietly, "And will be executed for high treason."

It had been Sheik's request that the ones who had simply been held in Ganondorf's thrall had been released. They had done the same to him, yes, but they had taken little pleasure from it. It had simply been another order. He could be merciful now, where he had not been merciful before.

_"Please, have mercy!"_

_"No."_

As Zelda and Link continued speaking of justice and the new castle and the plans to rebuild and expand the town and of her coronation and of the massive undertaking ahead of them to save a land that had been thoroughly violated for seven years, Sheik gazed out the window and wondered who was going to save him.

 

By the end of the third day, he was given a (relatively) clean bill of health, albeit one with a strict warning to take it easy. He had moved back to Impa's house - with her departure, Zelda told him, it had been left to the both of them.

At least, until the castle could be rebuilt.

Link had been quite amused at their new abode, telling Zelda about how he had been bedridden for a month and had Sheik as the only pleasant thing to look at. Now the roles were reversed, he remarked as he had tucked the blankets around the Sheikah, and it was Sheik who had to stay in bed.

But Sheik was melancholy. He knew that there was no reason, now, for Link to stay - he had still spoken of his missing seven years during those few days of recovery. It would never get any easier for him, and Sheik knew it. Link knew it. It was the best thing for all of them.

So when Zelda gently raised the issue, Link didn't raise a fuss - he simply lowered his head, hand tightening on Sheik's.

"If that is your wish," he whispered.

And Sheik took a breath, and said, "No."

Both Zelda and Link turned to stare at him, but Sheik couldn't even bring himself to look at them. "Just... not yet," he almost whispered, "Just one last week. That's all I ask."

And he lifted his head, seeking out their gazes in turn. Link nodded silently, and wrapped an arm around his middle. "One last week," he repeated, nodding. "Then I'll go back."

The expression on Zelda's face - grief, relief, sympathy - flickered back to careful neutrality and calm. "One last week," she echoed, and drew a shaky breath. "Now then," she smiled, "Who's for tea?"


	12. Laugh In Their Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied rape (in flashback), non-graphic sexual activity.

_Seven days_

Zelda had moved back to the Kakariko Inn the next morning. Ostensibly, it was so she would be more immediately accessible to those who needed her - with Ganondorf gone, there was plenty to do, and Zelda, as regnant, was the one they were to see.

Sheik knew the true reason - it was to give him and Link some privacy for their last few days together.

He was grateful, but it simply emphasised the fact that he was going to lose Link and there was nothing he could do about it. It was for the best, wasn't it? Link would have a chance to live the seven years that had been stolen from him, a chance to grow and develop naturally.

And if it broke Sheik's heart, then that was simply an unfortunate side effect.

The first day, they simply stayed in the village. Sheik was still weak from his ordeal, curled up against Link as they simply talked - or, more frequently, dozed. Zelda dropped by around lunch time, and again for dinner - she had brought hot, hearty meals from the inn, and the conversation around the bed had been... tense, but pleasant enough.

Too worn out to do much else afterwards, Sheik had leaned back against Link's chest and had played old songs on his lyre with weary fingers.

 

_Six days_

The next morning marked the first time Sheik had been able to truly see the outside since his capture. After two weeks in a cell then another few days bedridden, he was beginning to look pale and drawn, a ghost haunting Impa's little house.

He had not wanted to stay in the village. There were simply too many reminders, there - there, Impa had told him she was leaving forever, there, the shadow spirit had nearly killed him, there, he had willingly walked in to a trap because he was too foolish to recognise that one had been set.

So Link had led him out to where Epona was hitched outside the town and had ridden away - a copse of trees, the grass beneath dappled with sunlight, a peaceful corner between the lake and the start of the forest.

Sheik glanced around, smiling faintly - this had been where he had been training the day that Impa had told him to leave to learn the songs. Only eight and a half months ago - it felt like several lifetimes had passed since then.

Link, it seemed, had pilfered a basket filled with fresh foods and a blanket - laying them out beneath the trees, they had eaten and drank and talked and played music, and, by the time it was the middle of the afternoon, simply resorted to lying curled up together.

At one point, Link had slid a hand down to rest against Sheik's hip; Sheik had remembered rough hands against his skin and jerked away. And Link looked surprised, and a little disappointed, but he simply pulled him gently in to more of an embrace.

And Sheik closed his eyes, trying to ignore the frantic hammering of his heart from his brief moment of panic when Link had touched him, and silently thanked the Three that Link didn't know what had happened to him.

 

_Five days_

Sheik's wrists stung.

They were bruised, chafed where he had tried to pull against the shackles, red-raw and aching. Positioned at the end of the table, head hanging over the edge, Sheik squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pull them free.

Nothing, as he knew full well the results would be. A hand reached up, petted him on the head like an animal - tied up and collared, perhaps the analogy was more apt than he had initially thought.

With his eyes shut, his other senses were in overdrive - aside from the pain in his wrists, he could feel smooth wood beneath his chest and stomach, the edge of the table digging in to his hips, cold stone where his feet only just reached the floor, a chill draught from the door playing across his bare skin.

Unmentionable things drying on the back of his legs and across his face, his hair hanging limply and tangled, bruises rising on his skin where they had hit him. He could smell pipe smoke and sweat and alcohol, smell the metallic tang of his blood - he could taste it, too.

Raucous conversation and laughter drifted over from the group gathered on the other side of the room, not quite drowning out the steady plunk - plunk - plunk of the dripping water in the metal bucket in the corner. If he listened carefully enough, he could even hear the rats moving in the walls.

The conversation was picking up, the squeak of chairs loud against the stone floor. There were feet coming closer - Sheik's breath caught in his throat as a heavy hand landed on the small of his back.

"Enjoying yourself, Blood Eye?" the Captain smirked.

Sheik didn't look up, eyes still tightly shut. If he didn't acknowledge him, maybe he'd go away.

But no, there was no such luck. A hand fisted tightly in his hair, yanking his head back. "Look at me when I talk to you, Sheikah whore," he snarled.

Sheik remained stubbornly, defiantly silent.

The Captain hit him hard across the face, releasing his hair before moving around behind him. "Hope you're not planning in sitting down any time soon, pretty," he smirked, and curled his fingers against Sheik's hip --

\-- and Sheik woke with a gasp, tearing himself away from where Link had innocently curled his fingers against Sheik's hip in his sleep, falling off the low bed with a thump.

Link started awake immediately, reaching for his sword before stopping himself. "Sheik?" he called out softly, reaching out to brush the tips of his fingers over Sheik's shoulder, "What's wrong?"

Shaking a little, Sheik pushed himself up, sliding back on to the bed. "Nothing," he murmured, "Just a dream."

"Must have been some dream," Link frowned, tucking an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Sheik nodded absently against him. "It wasn't a good dream," he admitted, then sighed. "Well... it was more of a memory than a dream."

Link sighed, kissing him again. "Are you ever going to talk about what happened?" he asked almost pleadingly.

Sheik shook his head.

Sighing again, Link simply nodded in resignation. "Well," he said hesitantly, "If you want to..." Something unidentified flickered across his face. "Zelda is a good listener," he murmured, "And you have me for another five days."

Smiling tightly, Sheik nodded. "I know. I'll talk to you if I need to."

"Good," Link murmured sleepily, tugging him close again. "Go back to sleep."

"Okay," Sheik responded softly, but sleep seemed to be somewhat more elusive. Listening to Link's breathing slow down and become steadier, caught up in his own memories and his own lies, he watched his face and silently apologised.

He would never tell him. If they only had five days, then every last minute was precious and not to be wasted on himself. He would keep it in and never speak of it - he would keep the nightmares to himself and not demand attention or scrutiny.

He didn't need anyone's help.

 

_Four days_

The ceremony to commemorate those who had lost their lives over the past seven years was to be held that day, seven days since the Ganondorf's defeat.

It was to be held in the wide square that had once been Castle Town - the workmen had put on an astonishing burst of speed to pull down the crumbling buildings and level the land out in to a vast arena. The foundations of the Great Hall of the new castle would be built there, the castle spreading around it as Castle Town grew and expanded in front of it, the Temple of Time to become enclosed within the castle itself.

Already, out beyond the town boundaries in Hyrule Field, the ground was being marked by stones to signify the new roads. It would be a larger town, a grander town, the wide town square capped off with a magnificent fountain before leading up to the castle.

Sheik watched this silently as he and Link rode by on Epona - most of the workmen were silent as they went, watching with either awe or contempt or both. Sheik harboured no illusions at who the awe was directed at and who the contempt was aimed at, but he tried not to let it bother him.

Forget what they thought - so long as they didn't speak of it to Link or Zelda, they could say what they wished about him.

It was probably the truth, anyway.

Zelda was already there - several loose strands of hair clinging to her flushed face as she sent orders to one group then another, hardly the serene monarch she was supposed to be. Zelda had always favoured a more... hands-on approach, but now it seemed that she was distracted beyond all usual means.

"Sheik, Link" she almost gasped in relief, dragging Sheik (who was the closest) in to an immediate hug. Sheik flinched back at the sudden movement and immediately felt foolish for it. "This is a disaster - the ceremony is supposed to start at midday, it's scorchingly hot, we don't have enough seats, and the orchestra hasn't arrived yet."

"Have we got an orchestra?" Link asked in surprise.

Zelda ignored him for the moment in favour of barking another order at an equally frenzied-looking foreman.

Sheik resisted the urge to roll his eyes, glancing across at Link - who seemed to have not only had the same urge, but had given in to it. "Minuet?" he murmured across to Link, who blinked for a moment, then caught his meaning and nodded.

Sidling close to Zelda, Link looped his arm around hers, the foreman stuttering to a halt. "H-Hero of Time," he said haltingly, "It is a... a great honour to..."

"Nice to meet you too," Link said with a smile that only looked a little bit forced. And the instant the foreman bowed low, the Hero lifted his linked arm, brought the ocarina up to his lips, and played the Minuet of Forest.

"Link, _what_ \--" Zelda started, then squeaked as green magic swirled and took them away.

The three of them landed at the same time on the platform that sat in the Sacred Forest Meadow. Sheik tucked his lyre away and took Zelda's free hand - she was busy looking faintly scandalised.

"Link, you kidnapped the Princess Regnant!" she nearly hiccupped, "That's not good!"

"We'll tell them it was special Triforce business," Link said with a grin, "But you seem quite tense, so..."

He glanced away, and Sheik picked up where Link left off. "It would not do for Hyrule's ruler to fall to pieces," he said softly, "You're only driving yourself mad, being there. And the Temple of Time is nearby, we can return easily."

Zelda nodded slowly, then immediately flopped down on the warp platform, propping her chin on her hands and letting out a quite un-regal sigh. "This is madness," she murmured miserably, "I'm about to become a queen and I'm only seventeen."

Glancing across at Link, Sheik sat carefully next to her, wrapping an arm around her middle. "There have been younger kinds and queens," he reminded her gently, "And you have an advantage over them all." He reached for her right hand, rubbing his thumb over it gently. "And you'll always have me by your side," he murmured.

Assuming his demons didn't get him first.

Link dropped down on her other side, although he didn't reach to embrace her. They had only just met, Sheik remembered; the first time they had seen each other, truly face to face, had been only a week earlier. It was still entirely new between them.

"I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job," he smiled, seemingly a little melancholy himself, "I mean, you locked away Ganondorf. Running a country must be child's play after that."

Even the sound of his name seemed to make the birds stop singing.

But Zelda didn't seem to take any notice of it. She sighed again, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face, smiling faintly. "Thank you," she said softly, and gazed up at the sky through the trees. "This really is peaceful," she murmured, reaching for Link's hand as well and giving both his and Sheik's hands a squeeze.

Sheik glanced across at Link over her shoulder and smiled a little himself. Even the smell had improved, now that the Moblins were gone.

They remained there for a little longer, the silence comfortable enough that there was no need to fill it. And then Link sat up a little, glanced across at Sheik and Zelda, and said, "Well, shall we head back?"

"We shall," Zelda murmured lightly.

A minute later, the assembling crowd at the square were treated to the sight of their Princess Regnant, smiling, heading out of the Temple of Time with her arms around a Hero and a Sheikah.

 

_Three days_

Sheik barely saw Link, that day.

He had been called away, meeting with the representatives of the races of Hyrule. Many had lost their leaders - the Gorons had lost their patriarch, the Zoras had lost their princess and only heir. The Gerudo had lost both their king and his deputy; the Kokiri had lost the one they looked to for guidance.

The Sheikah had lost Impa, and for a race of two people, even one loss was irreparable.

Instead, Sheik spent the day with Zelda, helping to make the preparations for the days ahead. He was to become her personal protector, sworn in after her coronation, one of the most powerful positions that existed in all of Hyrule.

He knew that this was to be his fate, but when he had learnt that, it had been three weeks earlier and he hadn't been a broken wreck. Impa had told him that - it had been one of the last things she had told him.

Impa had only been the protector of a princess. To become the protector of a queen meant that he would outrank even her - residing in her house, he supposed that made him the tribal leader of the Sheikah, now.

Which was a meaningless title, considering he was the only one that existed - and barely, at that.

Zelda had almost pushed him to the seamstresses - stripping off in front of them, dignity preserved only by a pair of shorts that did very little to hide anything, they measured him to within an inch of his life. But the end results, they promised, would be worth it - a duplicate of his Guardian's uniform, lost to Ganondorf's castle, and his new Queensguard uniform.

Sheik was quite enthusiastically thanking the Three for the fact that Ganondorf hadn't been able to retrieve the belongings he had stashed in the Shadow. His necklace he wore now always, the Eye pressed against his skin beneath the plain tunic and trousers he had been given. The lyre and the flute that Impa had given him, his last possessions from her, and his weapons - the Sheikah blade, the throwing needles, even the hunting knife from his days in Toaru - they were all safe.

Sheik supposed he was sentimental, but if he didn't have things to remind him, he feared he would forget.

Link's tunic was torn and damaged. Clean, yes, but hardly in one piece, and with only two nights separating his return to his own time, it had hardly seemed worth repairing. A strip had torn off; Sheik had silently pocketed it, using it to tie back his too-long hair.

But to become the Queensguard... it meant visibility. It meant not being able to hide the all too visible scar across his mouth. It meant exposure to the castle, to a public he could never escape from, to new guards in a uniform he couldn't look at without wanting to hide in a corner.

Zelda told him the guards would be getting new uniforms. She claimed it was because the traitors had disgraced the previous one; he knew it was for his sake. He might have loved her for that, a bit.

The guards were still imprisoned. They would be executed following the coronation - a princess regnant could not order death, but a queen could. Zelda's first act as ruler would be to kill.

And only he would be able to pick up the pieces, even if he was broken himself.

Somehow, that didn't seem fair.

 

_Two days_

The last full day that Link would spend in this time, and Sheik craved closeness to him with a need bordering on desperation.

Link must have guessed what had happened to him, by then. Sheik had flinched at every touch, jumped at every unexpected contact; he was permanently on edge, permanently alert to any little sign of danger, anything that could compromise the tenuous safety he had managed to claim for himself.

But now, he forced his fear and uncertainty away. Link was here now, and he wouldn't be there the next day. It felt too soon, too forced, but there was no time now.

There would be time for himself to recover afterwards. There would be no second chances for Link.

"Are you sure?" Link had asked uncertainly, and Sheik had answered by kissing him breathless.

"Link, please," he whispered, settling on his lap, angling his hips to grind against the Hero's. Link's protests had died on his lips at the unexpected stimulation. "We are... running out of time."

There were faint tears glimmering on Link's face, but still, he nodded. "I'll be gentle," he murmured, brushing a thumb across Sheik's cheekbone, "You're still unwell, and..."

"There'll be time for recovery later," Sheik told him, kissed him fiercely again, and began to relieve them both of their clothes.

Link's expression was solemn, quietly devastated as he traced the lines of scars on Sheik's body - never touching them directly, but a thumb running above the mirrored lines above his hips, a brush of fingers above the Eye carved on his stomach, a kiss to one side of the cross beneath his collar bone.

But that was the last thing Sheik wanted to focus on. He took Link's hands, guided them to clearer, unmarred skin, distracted his mouth with his own, directed him to touch and feel and make him forget the abuse he had undergone at Ganondorf's and the Captain's hands had ever happened.

It had hurt, Link joining with him - for just a moment, he had imagined larger, rougher hands on his body, pain instead of pleasure, the bad instead of the good. But it almost seemed as if the Hero knew he was to be treated gently - he felt like glass, like one wrong move would shatter him, and so Link ensured to treat him with the utmost care.

"Link," he almost whimpered as he began moving, slow careful movements designed to tease. Link reached down to brush Sheik's hair out of his face; Sheik responded by wrapping his legs around Link's hips.

"Please," he whispered, leaning up to kiss Link again, an unspoken _make me forget_ in the air between them.

And Link had done that, limbs damp with sweat and gleaming gold in the light from the fireplace, their bodies entwined for the last time, desperate, needy kisses between them for the last time, the silence only broken with skin on skin and the crackle of the fire.

If this was the only chance they would get, they would make the night come alive.

 

_The last day_

They were at the Temple of Time, now - the three of them alone together for the first time since the forest, the silence companionable but thick with tension and grief and the knowledge of what would happen.

Sheik had almost considered not coming. There was nothing he could do, no way that he could stop what was to happen - Link would regain the life he had lost, even as Sheik would lose the one that had made life worth living.

He was dressed in his newly replaced uniform - the form-fitting pants and shirt, the wraps around his chest and wrists and fingers, his hair once again bound up. There were no wrist guards as a comforting weight against his forearms, and the boots he wore were simply plain leather, dyed blue, but the cowl and tabard were almost exactly as they had been.

Zelda had worn the gown she had inherited from her mother, Link informal in comparison in his torn green tunic and scuffed boots. Raising a hand beneath the wraps that bound his hair, Sheik brushed the tips of his fingers against the strip of green cloth there and was almost - almost - comforted.

Navi was resting on his shoulder, for once - she was silent, more subdued than he had ever seen the bubbly fairy. He reached up to comfort her, she flickered her wings against his palm.

Silently, Link stepped across to Sheik, resting a hand against his uncovered cheek just one last time before leaning down for one last kiss.

"I love you," Sheik whispered as they broke away, his eyes closing. "I... remember that. I love you."

Link gave him a shaky smile, quite unable to speak. Then he turned to Zelda and handed her the Ocarina of Time.

"Okay," he whispered voicelessly.

For a moment, Zelda folded her hands around his; then, she raised the ocarina to her lips. "Good bye," she whispered.

"Bye," Link echoed, and raised his head, brilliantly blue eyes locking with Sheik's red, not looking away even as the song lifted the dusty air.

Light swirled around them both - Sheik had to shield his eyes or be blinded even further. The last thing he saw as he closed them was of blue eyes - and then, there was nothing.

The light faded, revealing Zelda, collapsed to her knees, the ocarina in her lax hand. Forcing his muscles to co-operate, Sheik crossed over to her, extending his hand to help her up.

She stood, then, with a little sigh, embraced him, her head against his shoulder and her arms around his waist. And he clung back, because she was all he had left - Impa was gone, Link was gone, but he still had her.

"It's over," she murmured, and broke away from him, wiping at her eyes.

Sheik nodded numbly, gazing at the spot where Link had disappeared. "Now what?" he whispered, and his voice cracked.

Zelda simply slipped her hand in to his, grief on her face as she gazed at the same spot. "Now," she said softly, "We start again."


	13. Been Away Too Long

The air was thick with the smell of heavily perfumed flowers and tantalising cooking smells from the kitchens.

It had happened in an instant. One moment, Zelda had been sitting in her courtyard, glancing worriedly towards the window, anxiously keeping an eye of what was happening inside.

And in the next moment, seven years of life had spilled in to her head.

Zelda went rigid, gazing down at hands that were suddenly too small for her. She had done it, hadn't she? Her future self had returned the Hero to his time, but in being the one to do that, she still remembered everything.

And she knew how to stop it.

But instead, she simply sat there, too-small arms wrapped around her too-small knees, gazing at the flowers that would be destroyed when Ganondorf ruined her home.

She wasn't alone for long - Impa soon rounded a corner, giving her a curious look at her sudden melancholy pose. "Princess?" she enquired gently.

Zelda gazed at her for a moment, uncertain. It had been three and a half weeks ago and seven years in to the future that she had last seen her, and now... "Impa," she whispered, and the tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Frowning, Impa crossed over to her, sitting next to her on the steps and rubbing her back soothingly. And before too long, Zelda was spilling it all out - what the following days would bring, the seven years of hiding away, the Boundary. About Link, about Sheik. About what she had done so that Link could regain his life. About how there was no way she could have helped Sheik.

And when she finished spilling her story to Impa, light, cautious footsteps signified Link's arrival.

He gazed across at her, a stricken, too-old expression on his face. "Do you remember?" he whispered without even a greeting, the soft words carrying across the still air.

Zelda nodded silently, and Link deflated, his shoulders slumping. "I hoped I would forget," he murmured, "All the things I had seen... but then, I'd forget _him_ , and..."

It was bizarre talking to this Link. Zelda half expected to glance across and see him almost fully grown, the words he spoke innocuous enough but tinged with an adult's regrets. "I was a child in an adult's body," he said quietly, "And now I am an adult in a child's body."

"As am I," Zelda murmured.

Quietly, they made plans. Not a child's simple ideas - these were the sophisticated tactics of adults, to be aided and implemented by Impa. It was only a day or two away from the night Ganondorf would kill the king - they would have to move fast.

And at the end, Link said, "I'm going to leave for a while."

"Leave to go where?" Zelda almost whispered, and the Hero-turned-child shrugged.

"Where ever the wind takes me," he smiled sadly, "I can't just... stay here. I need time to clear my head."

Zelda nodded once. "May the Three go with you," she said with a soft little smile.

Link returned it sadly. "And you," he murmured, and took his leave.

Zelda gazed after him, then glanced back at Impa. "We have to do something for him," she said softly, "He sacrificed so much to save Hyrule - he should not be left in misery."

There was a long silence, and then Impa said, "There may be something."

"Oh?" Zelda queried.

Impa told her. And Zelda smiled.

 

Almost two years to the day, and Zelda's hands were pressed against the glass of her window.

Link's letter had arrived earlier that week, giving an approximate date of his return. That date had been today, and now Zelda was simply waiting.

"He will be here soon, Your Highness," a soft, slightly accented voice said from behind her, the speaker's feet soundless against the plush carpet.

Zelda huffed a short laugh, turning to glance back over her shoulder, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I told you," she said with a smile, "If we're going to live side by side for the rest of our lives, then you can call me Zelda."

"Yes, Your Highness," the other replied playfully, a smile of his own quirking his lips.

Zelda laughed then, a proper, genuine one, and beckoned her companion over. "Yes, he'll be here soon," she echoed, and continued to wait.

 

She was waiting in her courtyard, hands folded in the skirts of her summer dress, sunlight pouring down on her. Lurking in the background, as always, were her faithful shadows - a barely audible sound of a footstep against dried grass, and Impa detached herself to investigate.

And a moment later she returned, following a boy silently.

He was taller, now, although not by much, and broader across the shoulders. The sword on his back was unfamiliar, as were the myriad pouches strapped to the sword belt. He had acquired gauntlets somewhere, wore loose white trousers beneath the familiar green tunic.

Link was almost thirteen, now, an age he had never experienced in his waking life, his journeys to Termina changing him subtly from both the boy she had first seen in the garden and the Hero she had farewelled in the Temple of Time.

A small smile crossed his face when he saw her. "Princess Zelda," he said by way of greeting, "It's been a while."

"It has," she murmured, rising to take his hand - then pull him in to an impulsive hug. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too," he said quietly, carefully extracting himself from Zelda's embrace. "And... well."

He trailed off there, but he didn't need to say it. Zelda understood.

Which was why she grinned up at him, mischief and joy and I've-got-a-secret glimmering in her eyes. "Link," she said, suppressing a smile, "I would like you to meet someone."

Taking a breath, she gestured to where a gangly teenaged figure was lurking in the shadows. "Link, this is Impa's apprentice and my future guardian." She took a breath. "And Sheik, this is Link, the Hero of Time."

Sheik glanced across at her uncertainly, then took a step in to the light, self-consciously fiddling with the edges of his trainee guardian uniform. "Link," he said softly, "The Princess has told me much about you. It is good to meet you."

For just a moment, Link was rendered speechless. And then a slow smile spread across his face, the stress and pain and anxiety of the past two years and the next seven slipping away, replaced by peace and joy.

"Sheik," he breathed, and reached for the Sheikah's hands, cupping one in both of his. Sheik glanced down at their hands curiously, then across in to Link's eyes, seemingly caught by something himself. "I... it's good to meet you too."

And standing to one side, watching the two with a wide, content smile, Zelda realised with a jolt that was almost physical that everything would be alright after all.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This story is continued in A Pair Of Ragged Claws.


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